Boswell's Life of Johnson

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BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON

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BOSWELL'S
I-IFE OF JOHNSON

EDITED BY

AUGUSTINE BIRRELL

IN SIX VOLUMES
VOL. II

(PDeefttttnefer
ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE AND CO

1896

l/i

College
Library

PR

THE LIFE OF
SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D.

In 1758 we find hiitij it should seem, in as easy and
pleasant a state of existence, as constitutional un-
happiness ever permitted him to enjoy.

TO BENNET IiANGTON, ESQ., AT LANGTON, LINCOLNSHIRE

' Deabest Sir, — I must have indeed slept very fast, not to
have been awakened by your letter. None of your suspicions
are true ; I am not much richer than when you left me ; and, .
what is worse, my omission of an answer to your first letter
will prove that I am not much wiser. But I go on as I
formerly did, designing to be some time or other both rich
and wise; and yet cultivate neither mind nor fortime. Do
you take notice of my example, and learn the danger of
delay. When I was as you are now, towering in confidence
of twenty-one, little did I suspect that I should be at forty-
nine what I now am.

'But you do not seem to need my admonition. You are
busy in acquiring and in commimicating knowledge, and while
you are studying, enjoy the end of study by making others
wiser and happier. I was much pleased with the tale that you
told me of being tutor to your sisters. I, who have no sisters
nor brothers, look with some degree of innocent envy on those
who may be said to be bom to friends ; and cannot see, with-
out wonder, how rarely that native vmion is afterwards re-
garded. It sometimes, indeed, happens that some super-
venient cause of discord may overpower this original amity ;

VOL. IX. A

A r.K^ar^f^

2 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1758

but it seems to me more frequently thrown away with levity,
or lost by negligence, than destroyed by injury or violence.
"We tell the ladies that good wives make good husbands; I
believe it is a more certain position that good brothers make
good sisters.

' I am satisfied with your stay at home, as Juvenal with his
friend's retirement to Cumse: I know that your absence is
best, though it be not best for me.

' "Quamvis digressu veteris confusus amici,
Laudo tamen vacuis quod sedem figere Cumis
Destinet, atque unum civem donare SibyUae." — iii. 2.

* Langton is a good CvmuE, but who must be Sibylla ? Mi's.
Langton is as wise as Sibyl, and as good ; and will live, if my
wishes can prolong life, till she shall in time be as old. But
she differs in this, that she has not scattered her precepts in
the wind, at least not those which she bestowed upon you-

'The two Wartons just looked into the town, and were
tivken to see Cleone, where, David ^ says, they were starved,
for want of company to keep them warm. David and
Doddy^ have had a new quarrel, and, I think, cannot con-
veniently quarrel any more. Cleone was well acted by all
their characters, but Bellamy left nothing to be desired. I
went the first night and supported it as well as I might ; for
Doddy, you know, is my patron, and I would not desert him.
The play was very well received. Doddy, after the danger
was over, went every night to the stage-side, and cried at the
distress of poor Cleone.

' I have left off housekeeping, and therefore made presents
of the game which you were pleased to send me. The
pheasant I gave to Mr. Richardson, ^ the bustard to Dr.
Lawrence, and the pot I placed with Miss Williams, to be
eaten by myself. She desires that her compliments and good
wishes may be accepted by the family ; and I make the same
request for myself.

' Mr. RejTiolds has within these few days raised his price
to twenty guineas a head, and Miss is much employed in

1 Mr. Garrick. 2 Mr. Dodsley, the Author of Cleone.

3 Mr. Samuel Richardson, author of Clarissa.

iET. 49] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 3

miniatures. I know not anybody [else] whose prosperity has
increased since you left them.

' Murphy is to have his Orphan of China acted next month ;
and is therefore, I suppose, happy. I wish I could teU you
of any great good to which I was approaching, but at present
my prospects do not much delight me ; however, I am always
pleased when I find that you, dear sir, remember your
affectionate, humble servant, Sam. Johnson.

'Jan. 9, 1758.'

TO MR. SUBNET, AT LYNNE, NORFOLK

'Sib, — Your kindness is so great, and my claim to any
particular regard from you so little, that I am at a loss how to
express my sense of your favours ; i but I am, indeed, much
pleased to be thus distinguished by you.

' I am ashamed to tell you that my Shakespeare will not be
out so soon as I promised my subscribers ; but I did not
promise them more than I promised myself. It will, however,
be published before summer.

' I have sent you a bundle of proposals, which, I think, do
not profess more than I have hitherto performed. I have
printed many of the plays, and have hitherto left very few
passages unexplained ; where I am quite at a loss, I confess
my ignorance, which is seldom done by commentators.

'I have, likewise, enclosed twelve receipts; not that I
impose upon you the trouble of pushing them, with more im-
portunity than may seem proper, but that you may rather
have more than fewer than you shall want. The proposals
you will disseminate as there shall be an opportunity. I once
printed them at length in the Chronicle, and some of my
friends (I believe Mr. Murphy, who formerly wrote the Gray's
Inn Jov/mal) introduced them with a splendid encomium.

' Since the Life of Brovme, I have been a little engaged,
from time to time, in the Literary Magazine, but not very
lately. I have not the collection by me, and therefore cannot
draw out a catalogue of my own parts, but will do it, and
send it. Do not buy them, for I will gather all those that

1 This letter was an answer to one in which was enclosed a draft for
the payment of some subscriptions to his Shakespeare.

4 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1758

have anything of mine in them, and send them to Sirs.
Bumey, as a small token of gratitude for the regard which
she is pleased to bestow upon me. — I am, sir, your most
obliged and most humble servant, Sam. Johnson.

* London, March 8, 1758.*

Dr. Burney has kindly favoured me with the follow-
ing memorandum, which I take the liberty to insert in
his own genuine easy style. I love to exhibit sketches
of my illustrious friend by various eminent hands :

' Soon after this, Mr. Bumey, during a visit to the capital,
had an interview with him in Gough Square, where he dined
and drank tea with him, and was introduced to the acquaint-
ance of Mrs. Williams. After dinner, Mr. Johnson proposed
to IMr, Burney to go up with him into his garret, which being
accepted, he there found about five or six Greek folios, a deal
writing-desk, and a chair and a half. Johnson, giving to his
guest the entire seat, tottered himself on one with only three
legs and one arm. Here he gave Mr. Bumey Blrs. Williams's
history, and showed him some volumes of his Shakespeare
already printed, to prove that he was in earnest. Upon Mr.
Bumey's opening the first volume, at the ' ' Merchant of Venice, "
he observed to him, that he seemed to be more severe on
Warburton than Theobald. "O poor Tib. ! (said Johnson)
he was ready knocked down to my hands ; Warburton stands
between me and him." "But, sir (said Mr. Bumey), you'll
have Warburton upon your bones, won't you?" 'No, sir;
he '11 not come out : he '11 only growl in his den." "But you
think, sir, that Warburton is a superior critic to Theobald?"
"O, sir, he'd make two-and-fifty Theobalds, cut into slices!
The worst of Warburton is, that he has a rage for saying
something, when there's nothing to be said." filr. Burney
then asked him whether he had seen the letter which War-
burton had written in answer to a pamphlet addressed "To
the most impudent man alive." He answered in the negative.
Mr. Bumey told him it was supposed to be written by Mallet.
The controversy now raged between the friends of Pope and
Bolingbroke ; and Warburton and Mallet were the leaders of

,ET. 49] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 5

the several parties. LIr. Bumey asked him then if he had
seen Warburton's book against Bolingbroke's Philosophy.
"No, sir ; I have never read Bolingbroke's impiety, and there-
fore am not interested about its confutation." '

On the 15th of April he began a new periodical
paper, entitled the Idler, which came out every
Saturday in a weekly newspaper called the Universal
Chronicle or Weekly Gazette, published by Newbery.
These essays were continued till April 5, 1760. Of
one hundred and three^ their total number, twelve
were contributed by his friends ; of which, Nos. 33,
93, and 96 were written by Mr. Thomas Warton;
No. 67 by Mr. Langton ; and Nos. 76, 79, and 82
by Sir Joshua Reynolds : the concluding words of
No. 82, * and poUute his canvas with deformity,' being
added by Johnson ; as Sir Joshua informed me.

The Idler is evidently the work of the same mind
which produced the Rambler, but has less body and
more spirit. It has more variety of real life, and
greater facility of language. He describes the miseries
of idleness, with the lively sensations of one who has
felt them ; and in his private memorandums while
engaged in it, we find 'This year I hope to learn
diligence. ' ^ Many of these excellent essays were
written as hastily as an ordinary letter. Mr. Langton
remembers Johnson, when on a visit at Oxford, ask-
ing him one evening how long it was till the post went
out ; and on being told about half an hour, he ex-
claimed, 'Then we shall do very well.' He upon
this instantly sat down and finished an Idler, which
it was necessary should be in London the next da^.

^ Prayers and Meditations.

6 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1758

Mr. Langton having signified a wish to read it, ' Sir
(said he), you shall do no more than I have done
myself.' He then folded it up, and sent it off.

Yet there are in the Idler several papers which show
as much profundity of thought, and labour of lan-
guage as any of this great man's writings. No. 14,
'Robbery of Time' ; No. 24, ' Thinking' ; No. 41, 'Death
of a Friend ' ; No. 43, ' Flight of Time ' ; No. 51, ' Do-
mestic greatness unattainable ' ; No. 52, ' Self-Denial' ;
No. 58, 'Actual, how short of fancied, excellence ' ; No.
89, 'Physical evil moral good'; and his concluding
paper on ' The Horror of the last,' will prove the asser-
tion. I know not why a motto, the usual trapping of
periodical papers, is prefixed to very few of the Idlers,
as I have heard Johnson commend the custom : and
he never could be at a loss for one, his memory being
stored with innumerable passages of the classics. In
this series of essays he exhibits admirable instances of
grave humour, of which he had an uncommon share.
Nor on some occasions has he repressed that power of
sophistry which he possessed in so eminent a degree.
In No. 11, he treats with the utmost contempt the
opinion that our mental faculties depend, in some de-
gree, upon the weather ; an opinion which they who
have never experienced its truth are not to be envied,
and of which he himself could not but be sensible, as
the effects of weather upon him were very visible. Yet
thus he declaims :

'Surely, nothing is more reproachful to a being endowed
with reason, than to resign its powers to the influence of the
air, and live in dependence on the weather and the wind for
the only blessings which nature has put into our power,
tranquillity and benevolence. This distinction of seasons is

>ET.49] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 7

produced only by imagination operating on luxury. To
temperance, every day is bright ; and every hour is propitious
to diligence. He that shall resolutely excite his faculties, or
exert his virtues, will soon make himself superior to the
seasons ; and may set at defiance the morning mist and
the evening damp, the blasts of the east, and the clouds of
the south.'

Alas ! it is toa certain, that where the frame has
delicate fibres, and there is a fine sensibility, such in-
fluences of the air are irresistible. He might as well
have bid defiance to the ague, the palsy, and all other
bodily disorders. Such boasting of the mind is false
elevation.

' I think the Romans call it Stoicism.'

But in this number of his Idler his spirits seem to run
riot; for in the wantonness of his disquisition he
forgets, for a moment, even the reverence for that
which he held in high respect ; and describes ' the
attendant on a Court' as one 'whose business is to
watch the looks of a being weak and foolish as him-
self.*

His unqualified ridicule of rhetorical gesture or
action is not, surely, a test of truth ; yet we cannot
help admiring how well it is adapted to produce the
effect which he wished :

' Neither the judges of our laws, nor the representatives of
our people, would be much affected by laboured gesticulations,
or believe any man the more because he rolled his eyes, or
puffed his cheeks, or spread abroad his arms, or stamped the
ground, or thumped his breast ; or turned his eyes sometimes
to the ceiling and sometimes to the floor.'

A casual coincidence with other writers, or an

8 LIFE OF DR, JOHNSON [1758

adoption of a sentiment or image which has been
found in the writings of another, and afterwards
appears in the mind as one's own, is not unfrequent.
The richness of Johnson's fancy, which could supply
his page abundantly on all occasions, and the strength
of his memory, which at once detected the real owner
of any thought, made him less liable to the imputa-
tion of plagiarism than, perhaps, any of our writers.
In the Idler, however, there is a paper, in which con-
versation is assimilated to a bowl of punch, where
there is the same train of comparison as in a poem by
Blacklock, in his collection published in 1756 ; in
which a parallel is ingeniously drawn between human
life and that liquor. It ends :

' Say, then, physicians of each kind,
Who cure the body or the mind.
What harm in drinking can there be,
Since punch and life so well agree V

To the Idler, when collected in volumes, he added,
beside the Essay on Epitaphs, and the Dissertation on
those of Pope, an Essay on the Bravery of the English
Common Soldiers. He, however, omitted one of the
original papers, which, in the folio copy, is No. 22.'-

TO THE REV. MB. THOMAS WABTON

'Dear Sib, — Your notes upon my poet were very accept-
able. I beg that you will be so kind as to continue your
searches. It will be reputable to my work, and suitable to
your professorship, to have something of yours in the notes.
As you have given no directions about your name, I shall

1 This paper may be found in Stockdale's supplemental volume of
Johnson's Miscellaneous Pieces.

;et. 49] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 9

therefore put it. I wish your brother would take the same
trouble. A commentary must arise from the fortuitous dis-
coveries of many men in devious walks of literature. Some
of your remarks are on plays already printed : but I purpose
to add an Appendix of Notes, so that nothing comes too late.

' You give yourself too much uneasiness, dear sir, about the
loss of the papers. 1 The loss is nothing, if nobody has found
them; nor even then, perhaps, if the numbers be known.
You are not the only friend that has had the same mischance.
You may repair your want out of a stock, which is dejDosited
•with Mr. Allen, of Magdalen Hall ; or out of a parcel which
I have just sent to Mr. Chambers ^ for the use of anybody
that will be so kind as to want them. IMr. Langtons are well ;
and Miss Roberts, whom I have at last brought to speak, upon
the information which you gave me, that she had something
to say. — lam, etc., Sam. Johnson.

'London, April 14, 1758.'

TO THE SAME

*Deab Sib, — You will receive this by Mr. Baretti, a gentle-
man particularly entitled to the notice and kindness of the
Professor of poesy. He has time but for a short stay, and
will be glad to have it filled up with as much as he can hear
and see.

' In recommending another to your favour, I ought not to
omit thanks for the kindness which you have shown to my-
self. Have you any more notes on Shakespeare ? I shall be
glad of them.

'I see your pupil sometimes:* his mind is as exalted as
his stature. I am half afraid of him ; but he is no less ami-
able than formidable. He will, if the forwardness of his
spring be not blasted, be a credit to you, and to the University.
He brings some of my plays* with him, which he has my

1 ' Receipts for Shakespeare.'

2 ' Then of Lincoln College. Now Sir Robert Chambers, one of the
Judges in India.'

3 'Mr. Langton.'

4 ' Part of the impression of the Shakespeare which Dr. Johnson con-
ducted alone and published by subscription. This edition came out
in 1765.'

10 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1758

permission to show you, on condition you will hide them from
everybody else. — I am, dear sir, etc.,

* Sah. Johnson.
' [London,] June 1, 1758.'

TO BBNNET LANGTON, ESQ., OP TRINITY COUiEGB
OXFORD

'Deab Sib, — Though I might have expected to hear from
you, upon your entrance into a new state of life at a new
place, yet recollecting (not without some degree of shame)
that I owe yoii a letter upon an old account, I think it my
part to write first. This, indeed, I do not only from com-
plaisance but from interest ; for living on in the old way, I
am very glad of a correspondent so capable as yourself to
diversify the hours. You have, at present, too many novelties
about you to need any help from me to drive along your time.

' I know not anything more pleasant, or more instructive,
than to compare experience with expectation, or to register
from time to time the difference between idea and reality. It
is by this kind of observation that we grow daily less liable to
be disappointed. You, who are very capable of anticipating
futurity, and raising phantoms before your own eyes, must
often have imagined to yourself an academical life, and have
conceived what would be the manners, the views, and the
conversation, of men devoted to letters ; how they would
choose their companions, how they would direct their studies,
and how they would regulate their lives. Let me know what
you expected, and what you have found. At least record it
to yourself before custom has reconciled you to the scenes
before you, and the disparity of your discoveries to your hopea
has vanished from your mind. It is a rule never to be for-
gotten, that whatever strikes strongly should be described
while the first impression remains fresh upon the mind.

'I love, dear sir, to think on you, and, therefore, should
willingly write more to you, but that the post will not now
give me leave to do more than send my compliments to Mr.
Warton, and tell you that I am, dear sir, most affectionately,
your very humble servant Sak. Johnson.

VtMic28, 1758.'

yET. 49] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 11

TO BENNET LANGTON, ESQ., AT I^NGTON, NEAR SPILSBV,
LINCOLNSHIRE

• Dbab Sib, — I shoiild be sorry to think that what engrosses
the attention of my friend, should have no part of mine.
Your mind is now full of the fate of Dury ; ^ but his fate
is past, and nothing remains but to try what reflection will
suggest to mitigate the terrors of a violent death, which is
more formidable at the first glance, than on a nearer and more
steady view. A violent death is never very painful ; the only
danger is, lest it should be unprovided. But if a man can be
supposed to make no provision for death in war, what can be
the state that would have awakened him to the care of
futurity ? When would that man have prepared himself to
die, who went to seek death without preparation ? What, then,
can be the reason why we lament more him that dies of a
wound, than him that dies of a fever ? A man that languishes
with disease, ends his life with more pain, but with less
virtue : he leaves no example to his friends, nor bequeaths
any honour to his descendants. The only reason why we
lament a soldier's death, is, that we think he might have lived
longer ; yet this cause of grief is common to many other kinds
of death, which are not so passionately bewailed. The truth
is, that every death is violent which is the effect of accident ;
every death which is not gradually brought on by the
miseries of age, or when life is extinguished for any other
reason than that it is burnt out. He that dies before sixty,
of a cold or consumption, dies, in reality, by a violent death ;
yet his death is borne with patience, only because the cause
of his untimely end is silent and invisible. Let us endeavour
to see things as they are, and then inquire whether we ought
to complain. Whether to see life as it is, will give us much
consolation, I know not ; but the consolation which is drawn
from truth, if any there be, is solid and durable : that which

1 Major-General Alexander Dury, of the First Regiment of Foot
Guards, who fell in the gallant discharge of his duty, near St. Cas,
in the well-known unfortunate expedition against France, in 1758. His
lady and Mr. Langton's mother were sisters. He left an only son,
Lieutenant-Colonel Dury, who has a company in the same regiment.

12 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1759

may be derived from error, must be, like its original, fallacious
and fugitive. — I am, dear, dear sir, your most humble servant,

'Sam. Johnson.
'Sept. 21, 1758.'

In 1759, in the month of January, his mother died,
at the great age of ninety, an event which deeply
affected him ; not that ' his mind had acquired no
firmness by the contemplation of mortality ; ^ but that
his reverential affection for her was not abated by
years, as indeed he retained all his tender feelings
even to the latest period of his life. I have been told
that he regretted much his not having gone to visit
his mother for several years previous to her death.
But he was constantly engaged in literary labours
which confined him to London ; and though he had
not the comfort of seeing his aged parent, he contri-
buted liberally to her support.

TO BIRS. JOHNSON, AT LICHFIELD ^

'Honoured Madam, — The account which Miss [Porter]
gives me of your health, pierces my heart. God comfort and
preserve you, and save you, for the sake of Jesus Christ.

'I would have Miss read to you from time to time the
Passion of our Saviour, and sometimes the sentences in the
communion service, beginning — Come v/nto me all that travaU
and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

' I have just now read a physical book, which inclines me
to think that a strong infusion of the bark would do you good.
Do, dear mother, try it.

' Pray send me your blessing, and forgive all that I have

1 Hawkins's Life of Johnson, p. 395.

2 [Since the publication of the third edition of this work, the follow-
ing letters of Dr. Johnson, occasioned by the last illness of his mother,
were obligingly communicated to Mr. Malone by the Rev. Dr. Vyse.
They are placed here agreeably to the chronological order almost
uniformly observed by the author ; and so strongly evince Dr. Johnson's
piety and tenderness of heart, that every reader must be gratified by
their insertion- — M.]

/ET. 5o] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 13

done amiss to you. And whatever you would have done, and
what debts you would have paid first, or anything else that
you would direct, let Miss put it down ; I shall endeavour to
obey you.

' I have got twelve guineas ^ to send you, but unhappily am
at a loss how to send it to-night. If I cannot send it to-night,
it will come by the next post.

'Pray, do not admit anything mentioned in this letter.
God bless you for ever and ever, I am, your dutiful son,

'Sam. Johnson.

•Jan. 13, 1758.' 2

TO MISS POBTEK, AT MRS. JOHNSOn's, IN LICHFIELD

' My deab Miss, — I think myself obliged to you beyond all
expression of gratitude for your care of my dear mother.
God grant it may not be without success. Tell Kitty ' that
I shall never forget her tenderness for her mistress. What-
ever you can do, continue to do. My heart is very full.

' I hope you received twelve guineas on Monday. I found
a way of sending them by means of the postmaster, after I
had written my letter, and hope they came safe. I will send
you more in a few days. God bless you alL — I am, my dear,
your most obliged and most humble servant,

' Sam. Johnson.

•Jan. 16, 1759.

• Over the leaf is a letter to my mother.'

'Dkab honoubed Mother, — Yoxir weakness afflicts me
beyond what I am willing to communicate to you. I do not

1 [Six of these twelve guineas Johnson appears to have borrowed
from Mr. Allen, the printer. See Hawkins's Life of Johnson, p. 266, n.
— M.l

2 [Written by mistake for 1759, as the subsequent letters show. In
the next letter, he had inadyertently fallen into the same error, but
corrected it. On the outside of the letter of the 13th was written by
another hand — ' Pray acknowledge the receipt of this by return of post
without faiL'—M.]

3 [Catharine Chambers, Mrs. Johnson's maid-servant. She died in
October 1767. See Dr. Johnson's Prayers and Meditations: 'Sun-
day, Oct. 18, 1767. Yesterday, Oct. 17, I took my leave for ever of
my dear old friend, Catharine Chambers, who came to live with my
mother about 1724, and has been but little parted from us since. She
buried my father, my brother, and my mother. She is now fifty-eight
years old.' — M.]

14 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1759

think you unfit to face death, but I know not how to bear the
thought of losing you. Endeavour to do all you [can] for
yourself. Eat as much as you can.

' I pray often for you ; do you pray for me. — I have nothing
to add to my last letter. — I am, dear, dear mother, your dutiful
Bon, Sam Johnsoi;.

'Jwn. 16, 1759.'

TO MRS. JOHNSON, IN LICHFIELD

'Deah honoured Mother, — I fear you are too ill for long
letters ; therefore I wiU only teU you, you have from me all
the regard that can possibly subsist in the heart. I pray God
to bless you for evermore, for Jesus Christ's sake. Amen.

'Let Miss write to me every post, however short. — I am,
dear mother, your dutiful son, Sam. Johnson.

'Jan. 18, 1759.'

TO MISS PORTER, AT MRS. JOHNSOn's, IN LICHFIELD

' Dear Miss, — I will, if it be possible, come down to you.
God grant I may yet [find] my dear mother breathing and
sensible. Do not tell her, lest I disappoint her. If I miss to
write next post, I am on the road. — I am, my dearest Miss,
your most himible servant, Sam. Johnson.

'■Jam. 20, 1759.

On the other side.

'Dear honoured Mother, 1 — Neither your condition nor
your character make it fit for me to say much. You have
been the best mother, and I believe the best woman in the
world. I thank you for your indulgence to me, and beg
forgiveness of all that I have done iU, and all that I have
omitted to do well.^ Grod grant you his Holy Spirit, and

1 [This letter was written on the second leaf of the preceding, ad-
dressed to Miss Porter. — M. ]

2 [So, in the prayer which he composed on this occasion : ' Almighty
God, merciful Father, in whose hands are life and death, sanctify unto
me the sorrow which I now feel. Forgive nit whatever I have done
unkindly to my mother, and -whatever I have omitted to do kindly.
Make me to remember her good precepts and good example, and to
reform my life according to thy holy word,' etc. — Prayers and Medita-
tions.— M.]

iET. 5o] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 16

receive you to everlasting happiness, for Jesus Chxist's sake.
Amen. Lord Jesus receive your spirit. Amen. — I am, dear,
dear mother, your dutiful son, Sam. Johnson.

'Jan. 20, 1759.'

TO MISS PORTER, IN LICHFIELD

' You wUl conceive my sorrow for the loss of my mother, of
the best mother. If she were to live again, surely I should
behave better to her. But she is happy, and what is past is
nothing to her ; and for me, since I cannot repair my faults
to her, I hope repentance will efface them. I return you and
all those that have been good to her my sincerest thanks, and
pray God to repay you all with infinite advantage. Write to
me, and comfort me, dear child. I shall be glad likewise, if
Kitty will write to me, I shall send a bill of £20 in a few
days, which I thought to have brought to my mother; but
God suffered it not. I have not power or composure to say
much more. Crod bless you, and bless us all. — I am, dear
Miss, your affectionate humble servant, Sam. Johnson.

'Jan. 23, 1759.'!

Soon after this event he wrote his Rasselas, Prince
of Abyssinia ; concerning the publication of which Sir
John Hawkins guesses vaguely and idly, instead of
having taken the trouble to inform himself with
authentic precision. Not to trouble my readers with
a repetition of the Knight's reveries, I have to mention
that the late Mr. Strahan the printer told me, that
Johnson wrote it, that with the profits he might
defray the expense of his mother's funeral, and pay
some little debts which she had left. He told Sir
Joshua Reynolds that he composed it in the evenings
of one week,2 sent it to the press in portions as it was

1 [Mrs. Johnson probably died on the 20th or 21st of January, and
was biiried on the day this letter was written. — M.]

2 Rasselas was published in two duodecimo volumes, price five
shillings. The title was got of Lobo (p. 102). Ras means head
or chief.— A. B.]

16 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1759

written, and had never since read it over,^ Mr.
Strahan, Mr. Johnson, and Mr. Dodsley, purchased
it for £100, but afterwards paid him £25 more, when
it came to a second edition.

Considering the large sums which have been received
for compilations, and works requiring not much more
genixis than compilations, we cannot but wonder at the
very low price which he was content to receive for this
admirable performance ; which, though he had written
nothing else, would have rendered his name immortal
in the world of literature. None of his writings has
been so extensively diffused over Europe ; for it has
been translated into most, if not all, of the modern
languages. This tale, with all the charms of oriental
imagery, and all the force and beauty of which the
English language is capable, leads us through the
most important scenes of human life, and shows us
that this stage of our being is full of ' vanity and
vexation of spirit.' To those who look no further than
the present life, or who maintain that human nature
has not fallen from the state in which it was created,
the instruction of this sublime story will be of no avaU.
But they who think justly, and feel with strong
sensibility, will listen with eagerness and admiration
to its truth and wisdom. Voltaire's Candide, written
to refute the system of Optimism, which it has accom-
plished with brilliant success, is wonderfully similar
in its plan and conduct to Johnson's Rasselas ; inso-
much, that I have heard Johnson say, that if they
had not been published so closely one after the other

1 [See vol. i\. under June 2, 1781. Finding it then accidentally in
a chaise with Mr. Boswell, he read it eagerly. This was doubtless
long after his declaration to Sir Joshua Reynolds. — M.]

;et. 5o] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 17

that there was not time for imitation, it would have
been in vain to deny that the scheme of that which
came latest was taken from the other. Though the
proposition illustrated by both these works was the
same, namely, that in our present state there is more
evil than good, the intention of the writers was very
different. Voltaire, I am afraid, meant only by wanton
profaneness to obtain a sportive victory over religion,
and to discredit the belief of a superintending Provi-
dence : Johnson meant, by showing the unsatisfactory
nature of things temporal, to direct the hopes of man
to things eternal. Basselas, as was observed to me by
a very accomplished lady, may be considered as a
more enlarged and more deeply philosophical discourse
in prose, upon the interesting truth, which in his
Vanity of Human Wishes he had so successfully en-
forced in verse.

The fund of thinking which this work contains is
such, that almost every sentence of it may furnish a
subject of long meditation. I am not satisfied if a
year passes without my having read it through ; and
at every perusal, my admiration of the mind which
produced it is so highly raised, that I can scarcely
believe that I had the honour of enjoying the intimacy
of such a man.

I restrain myself from quoting passages from this
excellent work, or even referring to them, because I
should not know what to select, or rather what to
omit. I shall, however, transcribe one, as it shows
how well he could state the arguments of those who
believe in the appearance of departed spirits ; a doc-
trine which it is a mistake to suppose that he himself
ever positively held :

VOL. II. B

18 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1759

' If all your fear be of apparitions (said the Prince) I will
promise you safety : there is no danger from the dead : he
that is once buried will be seen no more.

' That the dead are seen no more (said Imlac), I will not
undertake to maintain, against the concurrent and unvaried
testimony of all ages, and of all nations. There is no people,
rude or learned, among whom apparitions of the dead are not
related and believed. This opinion, which prevails as far as
human nature is diffused, could become universal only by its
truth ; those that never heard of one another, would not have
agreed in a tale which nothing but experience can make
credible. That it is doubted by single cavillers, can very
little weaken the general evidence ; and some who deny it
with their tongues, confess it by their fears.'

Notwithstanding my high admiration of Rasselas,
I will not maintain that the ' morbid melancholy ' in
Johnson's constitution may not, perhaps, have made
life appear to him more insipid and unhappy than it
generally is ; for I am sure that he had less enjoyment
from it than I have. Yet, whatever additional shade
his own particular sensations may have thrown on his
representation of life, attentive observation and close
inquiry have convinced me that there is too much
reality in the gloomy picture. The truth, however,
is, that we judge of the happiness and misery of life
differently at different times, according to the state of
our changeable frame. I always remember a remark
made to me by a Turkish lady, educated in France : —
' Mafoi, Monsieur, notre bonheur depend de la faf on que
noire sang circule.' This have I learned from a pretty
liard course of experience, and would, from sincere
benevolence, impress upon all who honour this book
with a perusal, that until a steady conviction is
obtained that the present life is an imperfect state,
and only a passage to a better, if we comply with the

^T. 5o] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 19

divine scheme of progressive improvement ; and also
that it is a part of the mysterious plan of Providence
that intellectual beings must * he made perfect through
suflFering ' ; there will be a continual recurrence of
disappointment and uneasiness. But if we walk with
hope in ' the midday sun ' of revelation, our temper
and disposition will be such that the comforts and
enjoyments in our way wiU be relished, while we
patiently support the inconveniences and pains. After
much speculation and various reasonings, I acknow-
ledge myself convinced of the truth of Voltaire's con-
clusion, ' Apres tout, c'est un monde passable.' But we
must not think too deeply ;

' where ignorance is bliss,
'Tis folly to be wise,'

is, in many respects, more than poetically just. Let
us cultivate, under the command of good principles,
' la theorie des sensations agreables ' ; and, as Mr. Burke
once admirably counselled a grave and anxious gentle-
man, * live pleasant. '

The effect of Rasselas, and of Johnson's other moral
tales, is thus beautifully illustrated by Mr. Courtenay ;

' Impressive truth, in splendid fiction drest.
Checks the vain wish, and calms the troubled breast ;
O'er the dark mind a light celestial throws.
And soothes the angry passions to repose ;
As oil effused illumes and smooths the deep.
When roimd the bark the swelling surges sweep.' ^

It will be recollected that during all this year he
carried on his Idler, ^ and, no doubt, was proceeding,

1 Literary and Moral Character of Johnson.

2 This paper was in such high estimation before it was collected into
volumes that it was seized on with avidity by various publishers of

20 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1759

though slowly, in his edition of Shakespeare. He,
however, from that liberality which never failed, when
called upon to assist other labourers in literature,
found time to translate for Mrs. Lenox's English
version of Brumoy, ' A Dissertation on the Greek
Comedy,' and 'The General Conclusion of the Book.'
An inquiry into the state of foreign countries was
an object that seems at all times to have Interested
Johnson. Hence Mr. Newbery found no great diffi-
culty in persuading him to write the Introduction to
a collection of voyages and travels published by him
under the title of The World Displayed : the first
volume of which appeared this year, and the remain-
ing volumes in subsequent years.

newspapers and magazines to enrich their publications. Johnson, to
put a stop to this unfair proceeding, wrote for the Universal Chronicle
the following advertisement ; in which there is, perhaps, more pomp of
words than the occasion demanded :

^London, Jan. 5, 1759. Advertisement. — The proprietors of the
paper entitled the Idler, having found that those essays are inserted
m the newspapers and magazines with so little regard to justice or
decency that the Universal Chronicle, in which they first appear, is
not always mentioned, think it necessary to declare to the publishers of
those collections, that however patiently they have hitherto endured
these injuries, made yet more injurious by contempt, they have now
determined to endure them no longer. They have already seen essays,
for which a very large price is paid, transferred, with the most shame-
less rapacity, into the weekly or monthly compilations, and their right,
at least for the present, alienated from them, before they could them-
selves be said to enjoy it. But they would not willingly be thought to
want tenderness, even for men by whom no tenderness hath been
shown. The past is without remedy, and shall be without resentment.
But those who have been thus busy with their sickles in the fields of
their neighbours are henceforth to take notice that the time of impunity
is at an end. Whoever shall, without our leave, lay the hand of rapine
upon our papers is to expect that we shall vindicate our due, by the
means which justice prescribes, and which are warranted by the imme-
morial prescriptions of honourable trade. We shall lay hold, in our
turn, on their copies, degrade them from the pomp of wide margin and
diffuse typography, contract them into a narrow space, and sell them
at an humble price ; yet not with a view of growing rich by confisca-
tions, for we think not much better of money got by punishment than
by crimes. We shall, therefore, when our losses are repaid, give what
profit shall remain to the Magdalens ; for we know not who can be
more properly taxed for the support of penitent prostitutes, than
prostitutes in whom there yet appears neither penitence nor shame.'

.ET. so] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 21

I would ascribe to this year the following letter to
a son of one of his early friends at Lichfield^ Mr.
Joseph Simpson, Barrister, and author of a tract
entitled. Reflections on the Study of the Law,

TO JOSEPH SIMPSON, ESQ.

'Deab Sir, — Your father's inexorability not only grieves
but amazes me : lie is your father ; he was always accounted
a wise man ; nor do I remember anything to the disadvantage
of his good nature; but in his refusal to assist you there
is neither good nature, fatherhood, nor wisdom. It is the
practice of good nature to overlook faults which have already,
by the consequences, punished the delinquent. It is natural
for a father to think more favourably than others of his
children; and it is always wise to give assistance, while a
little help will prevent the necessity of greater.

' If you married imprudently, you miscarried at your own
hazard, at an age when you had a right of choice. It woidd
be hard if the man might not choose his own wife, who has a
right to plead before the judges of his country.

'If your imprudence has ended in diflSculties and incon-
veniences, you are yourself to support them ; and, with the
help of a little better health, you woidd support them and
conquer them. Surely, that want which accident and sick-
ness produces is to be supported in every region of humanity,
though there were neither friends nor fathers in the world.
You have certainly from your father the highest claim of
charity, though none of right : and therefore I would counsel
you to omit no decent nor manly degree of importunity.
Your debts in the whole are not large, and of the whole but
a small part is troublesome. Small debts are like small shot ;
they are rattling on every side, and can scarcely be escaped
without a woimd : great debts are like cannon ; of loud noise
but little danger. You must, therefore, be enabled to dis-
charge petty debts, that you may have leisure, with security,
to struggle with the rest. Neither the great nor the little
debts disgrace you. I am sure you have my esteem for the
courage with which you contracted them, and the spirit with

22 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1759

■which you endure them. I wish my esteem could be of more
use. I have been invited, or have invited myself, to several
parts of the kingdom ; and will not incommode my dear Lucy
by coming to Lichfield, while her present lodging is of any
use to her. I hope in a few days to be at leisure, and to make
visits. Whither I shaU fly is matter of no importance. A
man unconnected is at home everywhere ; unless he may be
said to be at home nowhere. I am sorry, dear sir, that where
you have parents, a man of your merits should not have a
home. I wish I could give it you. I am, my dear sir,
affectionately yours, Sam. Johnson.'

He now refreshed himself by an excursion to Oxford,
of which the following short characteristical notice,
in his own words, is preserved :

' ... is now making tea for me. I have been in my gown
ever since I came here. It was, at my first coming, quite
new and handsome. I have swum thrice, which I had disused
for many years. I have proposed to Vansittart ^ climbing over
the wall, but he has refused me. And I have clapped my
hands till they are sore at Dr. King's speech.' 2

His negro servant, Francis Barber, having left him,
and been some time at sea, not pressed as has been
supposed, but with his own consent, it appears from a
letter to John Wilkes, Esq. , from Dr. Smollett, that
his master kindly interested himself in procuring his
release from a state of life of which Johnson always
expressed the utmost abhorrence. He said, ' No man
will be a sailor who has contrivance enough to get
himself into a jail ; for being in a ship is being in a

1 Dr. Robert Vansittart of the ancient and respectable family of that
came in Berkshire. He was eminent for learning and worth, and
much esteemed by Dr. Johnson.

* Gentleman's Magazine, April 1785.

yET. 5o] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 23

jail, with the chance of being drowned.'^ And at
another time, 'A man in a jail has more room, better
food, and commonly better company.' ^ The letter
was as follows :

Chelsea, Mwrch 16, 1759.
' Deah Sir, — I am again your petitioner, in behaK of that
great Cham^ of literature, Samuel Johnson. His black
servant, whose name is Francis Barber, has been pressed on
board the Stag frigate. Captain Angel, and our lexicographer
is in great distress. He says the boy is a sickly lad, of a
delicate frame, and particularly subject to a malady in his
throat, which renders him very unfit for his Majesty's service.
You know what matter of animosity the said Johnson has
against you : and I dare say you desire no other opportunity
of resenting it, than that of laying him under an obligation.
He was humble enough to desire my assistance on this
occasion, though he and I were never cater-cousins ; and I
gave him to understand that I woidd make application to my
friend ]\Ir. Wilkes, who, perhaps, by his interest with Dr.
Hay and Mr. Elliott, might be able to procure the discharge
of his lacquey. It would be superfluous to say more on the
subject, which I leave to your own consideration ; but I cannot
let slip this opportunity of declaring that I am, with the most
inviolable esteem and attachment, dear sir, your affectionate
obliged humble servant, T. Smollett.'

1 Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, 3rd edit., p. 126.

2 Ibid., p. 251.

S In my first edition this word was printed Chum, as it appears in
one of Mr. Wilkes's Miscellanies, and I animadverted on Dr. Smollett's
ignorance ; for which let me propitiate the manes of that ingenious and
benevolent gentleman. Chum was certainly a mistaken readirig for
Cham, the title of the sovereign of Tartary, which is well applied to
Johnson, the Monarch of Literature : and was an epithet familiar to
Smollett. See Roderick Random, chap. Ivi. For this correction I
am indebted to Lord Palmerston, whose talents and literary acquire-
ments accord well with his respectable pedi^ee of Temple.

[After the publication of the second edition of this work, the author
was furnished by Mr. Abercrombie of Philadelphia, with the copy of a
letter written by Dr. John Armstrong, the poet, to Dr. Smollett at
Leghorn, containing the following paragraph :

' As to the K. Bench patriot, it is hard to say from what motive he
published a letter of yours asking some trifling favour of him in behalf
of somebody for whom the great Cham of literature, Mr. Johnson, had
interested himself.' — M.]

24 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1759

Mr. WilkeSj who upon all occasions has acted as a
private gentlemanj with most polite liberality, applied
to his friend Sir George Hay, then one of the Lords
Commissioners of the Admiralty ; and Francis Barber
was discharged, as he has told me, without any wish
of his own. He found his old master in chambers in
the Inner Temple, and returned to his service.

What particular new scheme of life Johnson had
in view this year I have not discovered ; but that he
meditated one of some sort, is clear from his private
devotions, in which we find,^ ' the change of outward
things which I am now to make ' ; and, ' Grant me
the grace of thy Holy Spirit, that the course which I
am now beginning may proceed according to thy laws,
and end in the enjoyment of thy favour.' But he did
not, in fact, make any external or visible change.

At this time there being a competition among the
architects of London to be employed in the building
of Blackfriars Bridge, a question was very warmly
agitated whether semicircular or elliptical arches were
preferable. In the design offered by Mr. Mylne the
elliptical form was adopted, and therefore it was the
great object of his rivals to attack it. Johnson's re-
gard for his friend Mr. Gwyn, induced him to engage
in this controversy against Mr. Mylne ; ^ and after

1 Prayers and Meditations.

2 Sir John Hawkins has given a long detail of it, in that manner
vulgarly, but significantly, called rigmarole; in which, amidst an
ostentatious exhibition of arts and artists, he talks of ' proportions of a
column being taken from that of the human figure, and adjusted by
Nature — masculine and feminine — in a man, sesquioctave of the head,
and in a woman sesquionaV ; nor has he failed to introduce a jargon
of musical terms, which do not seem much to correspond with the
subject, but serve to make up the heterogeneous mass. To follow the
knight throu|;h all this would be a useless fatigue to myself, and not a
little disgusting to my readers. I shall, therefore, only make a few
remarks upon his statement. — He seems to exult in having detected

JET. so] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 26

being at considerable pains to study the subject, he
wrote three several letters in the Gazetteer, in opposi-
tion to his plan.

If it should be remarked that this was a controversy
which lay quite out of Johnson's way, let it be remem-
bered, that after all, his employing his powers of
reasoning and eloquence upon a subject which he had
studied on the moment, is not more strange than what
we often observe in lawyers, who, as Quicquid agunt

Johnson in procuring ' from a person eminently skilled in mathematics
and the pnnciples of architecture, answers to a string of questions
drawn up by himself, touching the comparative strength of semicircular
and elliptical arches.' Now I cannot conceive how Johnson could
have acted more wisely. Sir John complains that the opinion of that
excellent mathematician, Mr. Thomas Simpson, did not preponderate
in favour of the semicircular arch. But he should have known, that
however eminent Mr. Simpson was in the higher parts of abstract
mathematical science, he was little versed in mixed and practical
mechanics. Mr. Muller of Woolwich Academy, the scholastic father
of all the ^eat engineers which this country has employed for forty
yearsj decided the question by declaring clearly in favour of the
elliptical arch.

It is ungraciously suggested, that Johnson's motive for opposing Mr.
Mylne's scheme may have been his prejudice against him as a native
of North Britain ; when, in truth, as has been stated, he gave the aid
of his able pen to a friend, who was one of the candidates ; and so far
was he from having any illiberal antipathy to Mr. Mylne that he after-
wards lived with that gentleman upon very agreeable terms of acquaint-
ance, and dined with him at his house. Sir John Hawkins, indeed,
gives fill! vent to his own prejudice in abusing Blackfriars Bridge,
calling it ' an edifice, in which beauty and symmetry are in vain sought
for ; by which the citizens of London have perpetuated their own
disgrace, and subjected a whole nation to the reproach of foreigners.'
Whoever has contemplated, placido lu7nine, this stately, elegant, and
airy structure, which has so fine an effect, especially on approaching
the capital of that quarter, must wonder at such unjust and ill-tempered
censure ; and I appeal to all foreigners of good taste, whether this
bridge be not one of the most distinguished ornaments of London. As
to the stability of the fabric, it is certain that the city of London took
every precaution to have the best Portland stone for it ; but as this is
to be found in the quarries belonging to the public, under the direction
of the Lords of the "Treasury, it so happened that Parliamentary interests,
which is often the bane of fair pursuits, thwarted their endeavours.
Notwithstanding this disadvantage, it is well known that not only has
Blackfriars Bridge never sunk either in its foundation or in its arches,
which were so much the subject of contest, but any injuries which it
has suffered from the effects of severe frosts have been already, in some
measure, repaired with sounder stone, and every necessary renewal can
be completed at a moderate expense. — Boswell.

26 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1760

homines is the matter of lawsuits, are sometimes
obliged to pick up a temporary knowledge of an art
or science, of which they understood nothing till their
brief was delivered, and appear to be much masters
of it. In like manner, members of the legislature
frequently introduce and expatiate upon subjects of
which they have informed themselves for the occasion.

In 1760 he wrote An Address of the Painters to
George III. on his Accession to the Throne of these
Kingdoms, which no monarch ever ascended with more
sincere congratulations from his people. Two genera-
tions of foreign princes had prepared their minds to
rejoice in having again a king who gloried in being
' born a Briton.' He also wrote for Mr, Baretti the
Dedication of his Italian and English Dictionary, to
the Marquis of Abreu, then Envoy-Extraordinary from
Spain at the court of Great Britain.

Johnson was now either very idle, or very busy with
his Shakespeare ; for I can find no other public com-
position by him except an Introduction to the Pro-
ceedings of the Committee for Clothing the French
Prisoners ; one of the many proofs that he was ever
awake to the calls of humanity ; and an account which
he gave in the Gentleman's Magazine of Mr. Tytler's
acute and able vindication of Mary Queen of Scots.
The generosity of Johnson's feeling shines forth in
the following sentence :

' It has now been fashionable, for near half a century, to
defame and vilify the house of Stuart, and to exalt and
magnify the reign of Elizabeth. The Stuarts have found few
apologists, for the dead cannot pay for praise ; and who will,
without reward, oppose the tide of popularity? Yet there
remains still among us, not wholly extinguished, a zeal for
truth, a desire of establishing right in opposition to fashion.'

;et. 5i] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 27

In this year I have not discovered a single private
letter written by him to any of his friends. It should
seem^ however, that he had at this period a floating
intention of writing a history of the recent and
wonderful successes of the British arms in all quarters
of the globe ; for among his resolutions or memoran-
dums, September 18, there is, ' Send for books for
Hist, of War,'^ How much is it to be regretted
that this intention was not fulfilled ! His majestic
expression would have carried down to the latest
posterity the glorious achievements of his country,
with the same fervent glow which they produced on
the mind at the time. He would have been under no
temptation to deviate in any degree from truth which
he held very sacred, or to take a licence, which a
learned divine told me he once seemed in a conversa-
tion jocularly to allow to historians. 'There are
(said he) inexcusable lies, and consecrated lies. For
instance, we are told that on the arrival of the
news of the unfortunate battle of Fontenoy, every
heart beat and every eye was in tears. Now we
know that no man eat his dinner the worse, but
there should have been all this concern ; and to say
there was (smiling), may be reckoned a consecrated
lie.'

This year Mr. Murphy, having thought himself ill-
treated by the Reverend Dr. Franklin, who was one
of the writers of the Critical Review, published an in-
dignant vindication in ' A Poetical Epistle to Samuel
Johnson, A. M. ,' in which he compliments Johnson in
a just and elegant manner :

1 Prayers and Meditations.

28 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1760

* Transcendent Genius ! whose prolific vein
Ne'er knew the frigid poet's toil and pain ;
To whom Apollo opens all his store,
And every Muse presents her sacred lore ;
Say, jxjwerful Johnson, whence thy verse is fraught
With so much grace, such energy of thought ;
Whether thy Juvenal instructs the age
In chaster numbers, and new-points his rage ;
Or faire Irene sees, alas ! too late.
Her innocence exchanged for guilty state ;
Whate'er you write, in every golden line
SubKmity and elegance combine ;
Thy nervous phrase impresses every soul,
While harmony gives rapture to the whole.'

Again, towards the conclusion :

Thou then, my friend, who see'st the dang'rous strife

In which some demon bids me plunge my life.

To the Aonian fount direct my feet,

Say, where the Nine thy lonely musings meet ?

Where warbles to thy ear the sacred throng,

Thy moral sense, thy dignity of song ?

Tell, for you can, by what imerring art

You wake to finer feelings every heart ;

In each bright page some truth important give,

And bid to future times thy Bambler live.'

I take this opportunity to relate the manner in which
an acquaintance first commenced between Dr. Johnson
and Mr. Murphy. During the publication of the
Gray's Inn Journal, a periodical paper which was
successfully carried on by Mr. Murphy alone, when a
very young man, he happened to be in the country
with Mr. Foote ; and having mentioned that he was
obliged to go to London in order to get ready for the
press one of the numbers of that Journal, Foote said
to him, ' You need not go on that account. Here is
a French magazine, in which you will find a very

;et. si] life of dr. JOHNSON 29

pretty oriental tale; translate that, and send it to
your printer. ' Mr. Murphy having read the tale, was
highly pleased with it, and followed Foote's advice.
When he returned to town this tale was pointed out
to him in the Rambler, from whence it had been trans-
lated into the French magazine. Mr. Murphy then
waited upon Johnson to explain this curious incident.
His talents, literature, and gentleman-like manners
were soon perceived by Johnson, and a friendship was
formed which was never broken. "^

TO BENNET LANGTON, ESQ., AT LANGTON, NEAR SPILSBY,
LINCOLNSHIRE

'Deab Sib, — You that travel about the world have more
materials for letters, than I who stay at home : and should,
therefore, write with frequency equal to your opportunities.
I shoxild be glad to have all England surveyed by you, if you
would impart your observations in narratives as agreeable as
your last. Knowledge is always to be wished to those who
can communicate it well. While you have been riding and
running, and seeing the tombs of the learned, and the camps
of the valiant, I have only stayed at home and intended to do
great things, which I have not done. Beau ^ went away to
Cheshire, and has not yet found his way back. Chambers
passed the vacation at Oxford.

' I am very sincerely solicitous for the preservation or curing
of Mr. Langton's sight, and am glad that the chirurgeon at
Coventry gives him so much hope. Mr. Sharpe is of opinion
that the tedious maturation of the cataract is a vulgar error,
and that it may be removed as soon as it is formed. This
notion deserves to be considered; I doubt whether it be
universally true ; but if it be true in some cases, and those

1 [When Mr. Murphy first became acquainted with Dr. Johnson he
was about thirty-one years old. He died at Knightsbridge, June i8,
1803, it is believed in his eighty-second year. — M.]

2 Topham Beauclerk, Esq.

80 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1761

cases can be distinguished, it may save a long and uncom-
fortable delay.

' Of dear Mrs. Langton you gave me no account ; which is
the less friendly, as you know how highly I think of her, and
how much I interest myself in her health. I suppose you told
her of my opinion, and likewise suppose it was not followed ;
however, I still believe it to be right.

' Let me hear from you again ; wherever you are, or what-
ever you are doing; whether you wander or sit still, plant
trees or make Rustics,^ pla-y with your sisters or muse alone ;
and in return I will tell you the success of Sheridan, who at
this instant is playing Cato, and has already played Richard
twice. He had more company the second than the first night,
and will make, I believe, a good figure in the whole, though
his faults seem to be very many ; some of natural deficience,
and some of laborious affectation. He has, I think, no power
of assuming either that dignity or elegance which some men,
who have little of either in common life, can exhibit on the
stage. His voice when strained is unpleasing, and when low
is not always heard. He seems to think too much on the
audience, and turns his face too often to the galleries.

' However, I wish him well ; and among other reasons,
because I like his wife.^ — Make haste to write to, dear sir,
yoxir most affectionate servant, Sam. Johnson.

' Oct. 18, 1760.'

In 1761, Johnson appears to have done little. He
was still, no doubt, proceeding in his edition of
Shakespeare ; but what advances he made in it cannot
be ascertained. He certainly was at this time not
active ; for in his scrupulous examination of himself
on Easter eve, he laments, in his too rigorous mode of
censuring his own conduct, that his life, since the
communion of the preceding Easter, had been '^dis-

* Essays with that title, written about this time by Mr. Langton,
but not published.

' Mrs. Sheridan was author of Memoirs of Miss Sydney Biddulph,
a novel of great merit, and of some other pieces.

^T. 52] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 31

sipated and useless.' ^ He, however, contributed this
year the Preface to Rolt's Dictionary of Trade and
Commerce, in which he displayed such a clear and
comprehensive knowledge of the subject, as might
lead the reader to think that its author had devoted
all his life to it. I asked him whether he knew much
of Rolt and of his work. ' Sir (said he), I never saw
the man, and never read the book. The booksellers
wanted a Preface to a Dictionary of Trade and Com-
merce. I knew very well what such a Dictionary
should be, and I wrote a Preface accordingly.' Rolt,
who wrote a great deal for the booksellers, was, as
Johnson told me, a singular character. Though not
in the least acquainted with him, he used to say, ' I
am just come from Sam. Johnson.' This was a
sufficient specimen of his vanity and impudence. But
he gave a more eminent proof of it in our sister king-
dom, as Dr. Johnson informed me. When Akenside's
Pleasures of the Imagination first came out he did not
put his name to the poem. Rolt went over to Dublin,
published an edition of it, and put his own name to
it. Upon the fame of this he lived for several months,
being entertained at the best tables as ' the ingenious
Mr. Rolt ' 2 His conversation, indeed, did not discover
much of the fire of a poet ; but it was recollected that
both Addison and Thomson were equally dull till
excited by wine. Akenside having been informed

1 Prayers and Meditations.

2 I have had inquiry made in Ireland as to this story, but do not
find it recollected there. I give it on the authority of Dr. Johnson, to
which may be added that of the Biographical Dictionary, and Bio-
graphia Dratnatica ; in both of which it has stood many years. Mr.
Malone observes, that the truth probably is, not that an edition was
published with Rolt's name in the title-page, but that the poem being
thus anonymous, Rolt acquiesced in its oeing attributed to him in
conversation.

32 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1761

of this imposition^ vindicated his right by publishing
the poem with its real author's name. Several in-
stances of such literary fraud have been detected.
The Reverend Dr. Campbell, of St. Andrews, wrote
An Inquiry into the original of Moral Virtue, the
manuscript of which he sent to Mr. Innes, a clergy-
man in England, who was his countryman and
acquaintance. Innes published it with his own name
to it ; and before the imposition was discovered,
obtained considerable promotion as a reward of his
merit.^ The celebrated Dr. Hugh Blair, and his
cousin, Mr. George Bannatine, when students in
divinity, wrote a poem, entitled The Resurrection,
copies of which were handed about in manuscript.
They were at length very much surprised to see a
pompous edition of it in folio, dedicated to the
Princess Dowager of Wales, by a Dr. Douglas as his
own. Some years ago a little novel, entitled The Man
0/ Feeling, was assumed by Mr. Eccles, a young Irish
clergyman, who was afterwards drowned near Bath.
He had been at the pains to transcribe the whole book,
with blottings, interlineations, and corrections, that
it might be shown to several people as an original.
It was, in truth, the production of Mr. Henry
Mackenzie, an attorney in the Exchequer at Edin-
burgh, who is the author of several other ingenious
pieces ; but the belief with regard to Mr. Eccles
became so general, that it was thought necessary for
Messieurs Strahan and Cadell to publish an advertise-
ment in the newspapers contradicting the report, and

1 I have both the books. Innes was the clergyman who brought
Psalmanazar to England, and was an accomplice in his extraordinary
fiction.

^T. 52] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 33

mentioning that they purchased the copyright of Mr.
Mackenzie. I can conceive this kind of fraud to be
very easily practised with successful effrontery. The
Filiation of a literary performance is difficult of proof ;
seldom is there any witness present at its birth. A
man either in confidence or by improper means
obtains possession of a copy of it in manuscript, and
boldly publishes it as his own. The true author, in
many cases, may not be able to make his title clear.
Johnson, indeed, from the peculiar features of his
literary offspring, might bid defiance to an attempt
to appropriate them to others :

' But Shakespeare's magic could not copied be,
Within that circle none durst walk but he.'

He this year lent his friendly assistance to correct
and improve a pamphlet written by Mr. Gwyn the
architect, entitled Thoughts on the Coronation of
George III.

Johnson had now for some years admitted Mr.
Baretti to his intimacy ; nor did their friendship cease
upon their being separated by Baretti's revisiting his
native country, as appears from Johnson's letters to
him.

TO MR. JOSEPH BARETTI, AT MILAN ^

' You reproach me very often with parsimony of writing ;.
but you may discover by the extent of my paper that I design
to recompense rarity by length. A short letter to a distant
friend is, in my opinion, an insult like that of a slight bow or

I The originals of Dr. Johnson's three letters to Mr. Baretti, which
are among the very best he ever wrote, were communicated to the
proprietors of that instructive and elegant monthly miscellany, TAe
European Magazine, in which they first appeared.

VOL. II. C

34 LIFE OF DPL JOHNSON [1761

cursory sahitation; — a proof of unwillingness to do much,
even where there is a necessity of doing something. Yet it
must be remembered, that he who continues the same course
of life in the same place will have little to tell. One week
and one year are very like one another. The silent changes
made by him are not always perceived, and if they are not
perceived cannot be recounted. I have risen and lain down,
talked and mused, while you have roved over a considerable
part of Europe ; yet I have not envied my Baretti any of his
pleasures, though, perhaps, I have envied others his company ;
and I am glad to have other nations made acquainted with the
character of the English, by a traveller who has so nicely
inspected our manners, and so successfully studied our
literature. I received your kind letter from Falmouth, in
which you gave me notice of your departure for Lisbon ; and
another from Lisbon, in which you told me that you were to
leave Portugal in a few days. To either of these how could
any answer be returned? I have had a third from Turin,
complaining that I have not answered the former. Your
English style still continues in its purity and vigour. With
vigour your genius will supply it ; but its purity must be con-
tinued by close attention. To use two languages familiarly,
and without contaminating one by the other, is very difficult :
and to use more than two is hardly to be hoped. The praises
which some have received for their multiplicity of languages
may be sufficient to excite industry, but can hardly generate
confidence.

'I know not whether I can heartily rejoice at the kind
reception which you have found, or at the popularity to which
you are exalted. I am willing that your merit should be
distinguished ; but cannot wish that your afifections may be
gained. I would have you happy wherever you are : yet I
would have you wish to return to England. If ever you visit
us again you will find the kindness of your friends im-
diminished. To teU you how many inquiries are made after
you would be tedious, or if not tedious, would be vain ; because
you may be told in a very few words, that all who knew you
wish you well ; and that all you embraced at your departure
will caress you at your return : therefore do not let Italian
academicians nor Italian ladies drive us from your thoughts.

lET. 52] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 35

You may find among us what you will leave beliind, soft
smiles and easy sonnets. Yet I shall not wonder if all our
invitations should be rejected : for there is a pleasure in being
considerable at home which is not easily resisted.

'By conducting Mr. Southwell to Venice you fulfilled, I
know, the original contract : yet I would wish you not wholly
to lose him from your notice, but to recommend him to such
acquaintance as may best secure him from suffering by his
own follies, and to take such general care both of his safety
and his interest as may come withiu your power. His
relations will thank you for any such gratuitous attention : at
least they will not blame you for any evil that may happen,
whether they thank you or not for any good.

' You know that we have a new King and a new Parliament.
Of the new Parliament Fitzherbert is a member. We were
so weary of oxir old King, that we are much pleased with his
successor ; of whom we are so much inclined to hope great
things, that most of us begin already to believe them. The
young man is hitherto blameless ; but it would be unreason-
able to expect much from the immaturity of juvenile years,
and the ignorance of princely education. He has been long
in the hands of the Scots, and has already favoured them
more than the English will contentedly endure. But, perhaps,
he scarcely knows whom he has distinguished, or whom he
has disgusted.

' The artists have instituted a yearly Exhibition of pictures
and statues, in imitation, as I am told, of foreign academies.
This year was the second Exhibition. They please themselves
much with the multitude of spectators, and imagine that the
English school will rise in reputation. Reynolds is without a
rival, and continues to add thousands to thousands, which he
deserves, among other excellencies, by retaining his kindness
for Baretti. This Exhibition has filled the heads of the
artists and lovers of art. Surely life, if it be not long, is
tedious, since we are forced to call in the assistance of so
many trifles to rid us of our time, of that time which never
can return.

' I know my Baretti will not be satisfied with a letter in
which I give him no account of myself; yet what accovmt
shall I give him ? I have not, since the day of our separation.

86 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1761

suflfered or done anything considerable. The only change in
my way of life is that I have frequented the theatre more
than in former seasons. But I have gone thither onl}' to
escape from myself. We have had many new farces, and the
comedy called The Jealous Wife, which, though not written
with much genius, was yet so well adapted to the stage, and
so well exhibited by the actors, that it was crowded for near
twenty nights. I am digressing from myself to the play-
house; but a barren plan must be filled with episodes. Of
myself I have nothing to say, but that I have hitherto lived
without the concurrence of my own judgment ; yet I continue
to flatter myself that, when you return, you will find me
mended. I do not wonder that, where the monastic life is
permitted, every order finds votaries, and every monastery
inhabitants. Men will submit to any rule, by which they
may be exempted from the tyranny of caprice and of chance.
They are glad to supply by external authority their own want
of constancy and resolution, and court the government of
others, when long experience has convinced them of their own
inability to govern themselves. If I were to visit Italy, my
curiosity would be more attracted by convents than by palaces;
though I am afraid that I should find expectation in both
places equally disappointed, and life in both places supported
with impatience and quitted with reluctance. That it must
be so soon quitted is a powerful remedy against impatience ;
but what shall free us from reluctance ? Those who have
endeavoured to teach us to die well have taught few to die
willingly ; yet I cannot but hope that a good life might end
at last in a contented death.

* You see to what a train of thought I am drawn by the
mention of myself. Let me now turn my attention upon you.
I hope you take care to keep an exact journal, and to register
all occurrences and observations ; for your friends here expect
such a book of travels as has not been often seen. You have
given us good specimens in your letters from Lisbon. I vrish
you had stayed longer in Spain, for no country is less known to
the rest of Europe ; but the quickness of your discernment
must make amends for the celerity of your motions. He that
knows which way to direct his view sees much in a little
time.

^T. 52] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 37

' "Write to me very often, and I will not neglect to write to
you ; and I may, perhaps, in time, get something to write : at
least, you wiU know by my letters, whatever else they may
have or want, that I continue to be your most affectionate
friend, Sam. Johnson.

'[London,} June 10, 176L'

In 1762 he wrote for the Reverend Dr. Kennedy,
Rector of Bradley in Derbyshire, in a strain of very
courtly elegance, a Dedication to the King of that
gentleman's work, entitled A Complete System of
Astronomical Chronology, unfolding the Scriptures. He
had certainly looked at this work before it was printed :
for the concluding paragraph is undoubtedly of his
composition, of which let my readers judge :

'Thus have I endeavoured to free Religion and History
from the darkness of a disputed and uncertain chronology;
from difficulties which have hitherto appeared insuperable,
and darkness which no luminary of learning has hitherto been
able to dissipate. I have established the truth of the Mosaical
account, bj evidence which no transcription can corrupt, no
negligence can lose, and no interest can pervert. I have shown
that the universe bears witness to the inspiration of its
historian, by the revolution of its orbs and the succession
of its seasons : that the stars in their courses fight against
incredulity, that the works of God give hourly confirmation
to the law, the prophets, and the gospel, of which one day
telleth another, and one night certifieth another ; and that the
validity of the sacred writings never can be denied, while the
moon shall increase and wane, and the sun shall know his
going down.*

He this year wrote also the Dedication to the Earl
of Middlesex of Mrs. Lenox's Female Quixote, and
the Preface to the Catalogue of the Artists' Exhibition.

The following letter, which, on account of its in-
trinsic merit, it would have been unjust both to John-

38 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1762

son and the public to have withheld, was obtained
for me by the solicitation of my friend Mr. Seward :

TO DR. STAUNTON (nOW SIR 6EOROG STAUNTON,

baronet)

'Dear Sir, — I make haste to answer your kind letter, in
hope of hearing again from you before you leave us. I cannot
but regret that a man of your qualifications should find it
necessary to seek an establishment in Guadaloupe, which if
a peace should restore to the French, I shall think it some
alleviation of the loss, that it must restore likewise Dr.
Staunton to the English.

' It is a melancholy consideration, that so much of our time
is necessarily to be spent upon the care of living, and that we
can seldom obtain ease in one respect but by resigning it in
another ; yet I suppose we are by this dispensation not less
happy in the whole than if the spontaneous bounty of Nature
poured all that we want into our hands. A few, if they were
left thus to themselves, would, perhaps, spend their time in
laudable pursuits : but the greater part would prey upon the
quiet of each other, or, in the want of other subjects, would
prey upon themselves.

' This, however, is our condition, which we must improve
and solace as we can ; and though we cannot choose always
our place of residence, we may in every place find rational
amusements, and possess in every place the comforts of piety
and a pure conscience.

' In America there is Uttle to be observed except natural
curiosities. The new world must have many vegetables and
animals with which philosophers are but little acquainted.
I hope you will furnish yourself with some books of natural
history, and some glasses and other instnmients of observa-
tion. Trust as Uttle as you can to report : examine all you
can by your own senses. I do not doubt but you will be able
to add much to knowledge, and, perhaps, to medicine. Wild
nations trust to simples ; and, perhaps, the Peruvian bark is not
the only specific which those extensive regions may afford us.

'Wherever you are, and whatever be your fortune, be
certain, dear sir, that you carry with you my kind wishes;

;et. 53] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 39

and that whether you return hither, or stay in the other hemi-
sphere, to hear that you are happy will give pleasure to, sir,
your most affectionate humble servant,

* Sam. Johnson.
• June 1, 1762.'

A lady having at this time solicited him to obtain
the Archbishop of Canterbury's patronage to have her
son sent to the University, one of those solicitations
which are too frequent, where people, anxious for a
particular object, do not consider propriety, or the op-
portunity which the persons whom they solicit have to
assist them, he wrote to her the following answer,
with a copy of which I am favoured by the Reverend
Dr. Farmer, Master of Emanuel College, Cambridge :

' Madam, — I hope you will believe that my delay in answer-
ing your letter could proceed only from my unwillingness to
destroy any hope that you had formed. Hope is itself a
species of happiness, and, perhaps, the chief happiness which
this world affords : but, like all other pleasures immoderately
enjoyed, the excesses of hope must be expiated by pain ; and
expectations improperly indulged must end in disappoint-
ment. If it be asked, what is the improper expectation which
it is dangerous to indulge, experience wUl quickly answer, that
it is such expectation as is dictated not by reason, but by
desire ; expectation raised, not by the common occurrences of
life, but by the wants of the expectant ; an expectation that
requires the common course of things to be changed, and the
general rules of action to be broken.

' When you made your request to me, you should have con-
sidered. Madam, what you were asking. You ask me to
solicit a great man, to whom I never spoke, for a young person
whom I had never seen, upon a supposition which I had no
means of knowing to be true. There ia no reason why,
amongst all the great, I should choose to supplicate the Arch-
bishop, nor why, among all the possible objects of his bounty,
the Archbishop should choose your son. I know, madam.

40 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1762

how unwillingly conviction is admitted, when interest opposes
it ; but surely, madam, you must allow, that there is no
reason why that should be done by me which every other man
may do with equal reason, and which, indeed, no man can do
properly, without some very particular relation both to the
Archbishop and to you. If I could help you in this exigence by
any proper means, it would give me pleasure ; but this pro-
posal is so very remote from usual methods, that I cannot
comply with it, but at the risk of such answer and s\ispicions
as I believe you do not wish me to undergo.

' I have seen your son this morning ; he seems a pretty
youth, and will, perhaps, find some better friend than I can
procure him ; but though he should at last miss theUniversity
he may still be wise, useful, and happy. — I am, madam,
your most humble servant, S^m. Johnson.

'Junes, 1762.'

TO MR. JOSEPH BARETTI, AT MILAN

' London, July 20, 1762,
'Sib, — However justly you may accuse me for want of
punctuality in correspondence, I am not so far lost in negli-
gence as to omit the opportunity of writing to you, which Mr.
Beauclerk's passage through Milan affords me.

' I suppose 3'ou received the Idlers, and I intend that you
shall soon receive Shakespeare, that you may explain his
works to the ladies of Italy, and tell them the story of the
editor, among the other strange narratives with which your
long residence in this unknown region has supplied you.

' As you have now been long away, I suppose your curiosity
may pant for some news of your old friends. Sliss Williams
and I live much as we did. Miss Cotterell still continues to
cUng to Mrs. Porter, and Charlotte is now big of the fourth
child. LIr. Reynolds gets six thousand a year. Levet is
lately married, not without much suspicion that he has been
wretchedly cheated in his match. Mr. Chambers is gone this
day, for the first time, the circuit with the Judges. Mr.
Richardson ^ is dead of an apoplexy, and his second daughter
has married a merchant.

1 [Samuel Richardson, the author of Clarissa, Sir Charles GrandU
ton, etc. He died July 4, 1761, aged 72. — iM.]

Ml. S3] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 41

' My vanity or my kindness makes me flatter myself that
you would rather hear of me than of those whom I have men-
tioned ; but of myself I have very little which I care to teU.
Last winter I went down to my native town, where I found the
streets much narrower and shorter than I thought I had left
them, inhabited by a new race of people, to whom I was very
little known. My playfellows were grown old, and forced me
to suspect that I was no longer young. My only remaining
friend has changed his principles, and was become the tool of
the predominant faction. My daughter-in-law, from whom
I expected most, and whom I met with sincere benevolence,
has lost the beauty and gaiety of youth, without having gained
much of the wisdom of age. I wandered about for five days,
and took the first convenient opportunity of returning to a
place where, if there is not much happiness, there is at least
such a diversity of good and evil that slight vexations do not
fix upon the heart.

' I think in a few weeks to try another excursion ; though
to what end ? Let me know, my Baretti, what has been the
result of your return to your own country : whether time has
made any alteration for the better, and whether, when the
first raptures of salutation were over, you did not find your
thoughts confessed their disappointment.

' Moral sentences appear ostentatious and tumid, when they
have no greater occasions than the journey of a wit to his own
town ; yet such pleasures and such pains make up the general
mass of life ; and as nothing is little to him that feels it with
great sensibility, a mind able to see common incidents in
their real state is disposed by very common incidents to very
serious contemplations. Let us trust that a time wiU como
when the present moment shall be no longer irksome ; when
■we shall not borrow all our happiness from hope, which at
last is to end in disappointment.

' I beg that you will show Mr. Beauclerk all the civilities which
you have in your power, for he has always been kind to me.

' I have lately seen Mr. Stratico, Professor of Padua, who
has told me of your quarrel with an abbot of the Celestine
order ; but had not the particulars very ready in his memory.
When you write to Mr. Marsili, let him know that I remember
him with kindness.

42 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1762

' May yon, my Baretti, be very happy at Blilan, or some
other place nearer to, sir, your most affectionate humble
servant, Sam. Johnson.'

The accession of George the Third to the throne of
these kingdoms opened a new and brighter prospect
to men of literary merit, who had been honoured with
no mark of royal favour in the preceding reign. His
present Majesty's education in this country, as well as
his taste and beneficence, prompted him to be the
patron of science and the arts ; and early this year,
Johnson having been represented to him as a very
learned and good man, without any certain provision,
his Majesty was pleased to grant him a pension of
three hundred pounds a year. The Earl of Bute, who
was then Prime Minister, had the honour to announce
this instance of his Sovereign's bounty, concerning
which many and various stories, all equally erroneous,
have been propagated ; maliciously representing it
as a political bribe to Johnson to desert his avowed
principles, and become the tool of a government which
he held to be founded in usurpation. I have taken
care to have it in my power to refute them from the
most authentic information. Lord Bute told me that
Mr. Wedderburne, now Lord Loughborough, was the
person who first mentioned this subject to him. Lord
Loughborough told me that the pension was granted
to Johnson solely as the reward of his literary merit,
without any stipulation whatever, or even tacit under-
standing that he should write for administration. His
Lordship added, that he was confident the political
tracts which Johnson afterwards did write, as they
were entirely consonant with his own opinions, would

JET. S3] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 43

have been written by him though no pension had
been granted to him.

Mr. Thomas Sheridan and Mr. Murphy, who then
lived a good deal both with him and Mr. Wedderbume,
told me, that they previously talked with Johnson
upon this matter, and that it was perfectly understood
by all parties that the pension was merely honorary.
Sir Joshua Reynolds told me that Johnson called on
him after his Majesty's intention had been notified to
him, and said he wished to consult his friends as to
the propriety of his accepting this mark of the royal
favour, after the definitions which he had given in his
Dictionary of pension and pensioners. He said he
should not have Sir Joshua's answer till the next day,
when he would call again, and desired he might think
of it. Sir Joshua answered that he was clear to give
his opinion then, that there could be no objection ta
his receiving from the King a reward for literary
merit; and that certainly the definitions in his
Dictionary were not applicable to him. Johnson, it
should seem, was satisfied, for he did not call again
till he had accepted the pension, and waited on Lord
Bute to thank him. He then told Sir Joshua that
Lord Bute said to him expressly, ' It is not given you
for anything you are to do, but for what you have
donc'i His Lordship, he said, behaved in the hand-
somest manner. He repeated the words twice, that
he might be siire Johnson heard them, and thus set
his mind perfectly at ease. This nobleman, who has

1 [This was said by Lord Bute, as Dr. Bumey was informed by

Johnson himself, in answer to a question which he put, previously to
is acceptance of the intended bounty : ' Pray, my Lord, what am I
expected to do for this pension? ' — M.]

44 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1762

been so virulently abused^ acted with great honour in
this instance, and displayed a mind truly liberaL A
minister of a more narrow and selfish disposition
would have availed himself of such an opportunity to
fix an implied obligation on a man of Johnson's
powerful talents to give him his support.

Mr. Murphy and the late Mr. Sheridan severally
contended for the distinction of having been the first
who mentioned to Mr. Wedderburne that Johnson
ought to have a pension. When I spoke of this to
Lord Loughborough, wishing to know if he recollected
the prime mover in the business, he said, ' All his
friends assisted ' : and when I told him that Mr.
Sheridan strenuously asserted his claim to it, his
Lordship said, ' He rang the bell.' And it is but just
to add, that Mr. Sheridan told me, that when he
communicated to Dr. Johnson that a pension was to
be granted him he replied in a fervour of gratitude,
^The English language does not afford me terms
adequate to my feelings on this occasion. I must
have recourse to the French. I am penetri with his
Majesty's goodness.' AVhen I repeated this to Dr.
Johnson he did not contradict it.

His definitions of pension and pensioner, partly
founded on the satirical verses of Pope, which he
quotes, may be generally true; and yet everybody
must allow that there may be, and have been, in-
stances of pensions given and received upon liberal
and honourable terms. Thus, then, it is clear, that
there was nothing inconsistent or humiliating in
Johnson's accepting of a pension so unconditionally
and so honourably offered to him.

But I shall not detain my readers longer by any

MT. S3] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 45

words of my own, on a subject on which I am happily-
enabled, by the favour of the Earl of Bute, to present
them with what Johnson himself wrote ; his Lordship
having been pleased to communicate to me a copy of
the following letter to his late father, which does
great honour both to the writer and to the noble
person to whom it is addressed : —

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE EARL OP BUTE

' Mr Lord, — "WTien the bills were yesterday delivered to me
by Mr. Wedderburne, I was informed by him of the future
favours which his Majesty has, by your Lordship's recom-
mendation, been induced to intend for me.

' Boiuity always receives part of its value from the manner
in which it is bestowed; your Lordship's kindness includes
every circumstance that can gratify dehcacy or enforce
obhgation. You have conferred your favours on a man who
has neither alliance nor interest, who has not merited them
by services, nor courted them by officiousness ; you have spared
him the shame of solicitation and the anxiety of suspense.

' What has been thus elegantly given will, I hope, not be
reproachfully enjoyed ; I shall endeavour to give your Lord-
ship the only recompense which generosity desires, — the
gratification of finding that your benefits are not improperl3'
bestowed. — I am, my Lord, your Lordship's most obliged,
most obedient, and most humble servant, Sah. Johnson.

'July SO, 1762.'

This year his friend Sir Joshua Reynolds paid a
visit of some weeks to his native county, Devonshire,
in which he was accompanied by Johnson, who was
much pleased with this jaunt, and declared he had de-
rived from it a great accession of new ideas. He was-
entertained at the seats of several noblemen and gen-
tlemen in the west of England ; ^ but the greatest

1 At one of these seats Dr. Amyat, physician in London, told me he
happened to meet him. In order to amuse him till dinner should be

46 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1762

part of this time was passed at Plymouth, where the
magnificence of the navy, the shipbuilding, and all
its circumstances, afforded him a grand subject of
contemplation. The Commissioner of the Dockyard
paid him the compliment of ordering the yacht to
convey him and his friend to the Eddystone, to which
they accordingly sailed. But the weather was so
tempestuous that they could not land.

Reynolds and he were at this time the guests of Dr.
Mudge, the celebrated surgeon, and now physician of
that place, not more distinguished for quickness of
parts and variety of knowledge than loved and esteemed
for his amiable manners ; and here Johnson formed
an acquaintance with Dr. Mudge's father, that very
eminent divine, the Reverend Zachariah Mudge, Pre-
bendary of Exeter, who was idolised in the west, both
for his excellence as a preacher and the uniform
perfect propriety of his private conduct. He preached
a sermon purposely that Johnson might hear him ;
and we shall see afterwards that Johnson honoured
his memory by drawing his character. While Johnson
was at Plymouth he saw a great many of its inhabi-
tants, and was not sparing of his very entertaining
conversation. It was here that he made that frank
and truly original confession, that 'ignorance, pure
ignorance,' was the cause of a wrong definition in his
Dictionary of the word pastern,'^ to the no small surprise
of a lady who put the question to him ; who having

ready, he was taken out to walk in the garden. The master of the
house, thinking it proper to introduce something scientific into the
conversation, addressed him thus : ' Are you a botanist, Dr. John-
son?' ' No, sir (answered Johnson), I am not a botanist ; and (allud-
ing, no doubt, to his near-sightedness) should I wish to become a
botanist, I must first turn myself into a reptile.'
1 See vol. i. p. 242.

^T. 53] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 47

the most profound reverence for his character, so as
almost to suppose him endowed with infallibility,
expected to hear an explanation (of what, to be sure,
seemed strange to a common reader) drawn from some
deep-learned source with which she was unacquainted.
Sir Jo^ua Reynolds, to whom I was obliged for
my information concerning this excursion, mentions
a very characteristical anecdote of Johnson whUe at
Plymouth. Having observed, that in consequence of
the Dockyard a new town had arisen about two miles
off as a rival to the old, and knowing from his
sagacity, and just observation of human nature, that
it is certain if a man hates at all he will hate his next
neighbour, he concluded that this new and rising
town could not but excite the envy and jealousy of
the old, in which conjecture he was very soon con-
firmed ; he therefore set himself resolutely on the
side of the old town, the established town, in which his
lot was cast, considering it as a kind of duty to stand
by it. He accordingly entered warmly into its interests,
and upon every occasion talked of the dockers, as the
inhabitants of the new town were called, as upstarts
and aliens. Plymouth is very plentifully supplied
with water by a river brought into it from a great
distance, which is so abundant that it runs to waste
in the town. The Dock, or new town, being totally
destitute of water, petitioned Plymouth that a small
portion of the conduit might be permitted to go to
them, and this was now under consideration. Johnson,
affecting to entertain the passions of the place, was
violent in opposition ; and half laughing at himself
for his pretended zeal, where he had no concern, ex-
claimed, ' No, no ! I am against the dockers ; I am a

48 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1762

Plymouth man. Rogues ! let them die of thirst.
They shall not have a drop ! ' ^

Lord Macartney obligingly favoured me with a copy
of the following letter, in his own handwriting, from
the original, which was found, by the present Earl of
Bute, among his father's papers : —

TO THE RIGHT HONOUBABLE THE EARL OF BUTE

'My Lokd, — That generosity, by which I was recommended
to the favour of his Majesty, will not be offended at a solici-
tation necessary to make that favour permanent and effectuaL

'The pension appointed to be paid me at Blichaelmas I
have not received, and know not where or from whom I am to
ask it. I beg, therefore, that your Lordship will be pleased
to supply Mr. Wedderburne with such directions as may be
necessary, which, I believe, his friendship will make him
think it no trouble to convey to me.

'To interrupt your Lordship, at a time like this, with such
petty difficulties, is improper and imseasonable ; but your
knowledge of the world has long since taught you, that every
man's affairs, however little, are important to himself. Every
man hopes that he shall escape neglect ; and, with reason,
may every man, whose vices do not preclude his claim, expect
favotir from that beneficence which has been extended to,
my Lord, your Lordship's most obhged and most humble
servant, Sam. Johnson.

'Temple Lane, Nov. 3, 1762.'

TO MR. JOSEPH BARETTI, AT MILAN

'London, Dec. 21, 1762.
'Sib, — You are not to suppose, with all your conviction of
my idleness, that I have passed all this time without writing
to my Baretti. I gave a letter to Mr. Beauclerk, who in my
opinion, and in his own, was hastening to Naples for the
recovery of his health ; but he has stopped at Paris, and I
know not when he will proceed. Langton is with him.

1 [A friend of mine once heard him, during this visit, exclaim with
the utmost vehemence, ' I hate a docker.' — J. Blakewav.]

MT.S3] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 49

' I will not trouble you with speculations about peace and
war. The good or ill success of battles and embassies extends
itself to a very small part of domestic life : we all have good
and evil, which we feel more sensibly than our petty part of
public Baiscarriage or prosperity. I am sorry for your disap-
pointment, with which you seem more touched than I shotild
expect a man of your resolution and experience to have been,
did I not know that general truths are seldom applied to
particular occasions ; and that the fallacy of our self-love
extends itself as wide as our interest or affections. Every
man believes that mistresses are unfaithful and patrons
capricious : but he excepts his own mistress and his own
patron. We have all learned that greatness is negligent and
contemptuous, and that in courts life is often languished away
in ung^atified expectation ; but he that approaches greatness,
or glitters in a court, imagines that destiny has at last
exempted him from the common lot.

'Do not let such evils overwhelm you as thousands have
suffered, and thousands have surmoimted; but turn your
thoughts with vigour to some other plan of life, and keep
always in your mind, that, with due submission to Provi-
dence, a man of genius has been seldom ruined but by him-
self. Your patron's weakness or insensibility will finally do
you little hurt, if he is not assisted by your own passions.
Of your love I know not the propriety, nor can estimate
the power; but in love, as in every other passion of which
hope ia the essence, we ought always to remember the im-
certainty of events. There is, indeed, nothing that so much
seduces reason from vigilance as the thought of passing life
with an amiable woman; and if all would happen that a
lover fancies, I know not what other terrestrial happiness
would deserve pursuit. But love and marriage are different
states. Those who are to suffer the evils together, ^ and to
suffer often for the sake of one another, soon lose that tender-
ness of look, and that benevolence of mind, which arose from
the participation of vmmingled pleasure and successive amaBe>-

1 [Johnson probably wrote ' the evils of life together.' The words in
italics, however, are not found in Baretti's original edition of this letter,
but they may have been omitted inadvertently, either in his transcript
or at the press. — M.]

VOIi. II. D

60 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

ment. A woman, we are sure, will not be always fair ; we
are not sure she will always be virtuous ; and man cannot
retain through life that respect and assiduity by which he
pleases for a day or for a month. I do not, however, pretend
to have discovered that life has anything more to be desired
than a prudent and virtuous marriage: therefore know not
what counsel to give you^

' If you can quit your imagination of love and greatness,
and leave your hopes of preferment and bridal raptures to try
once more the fortune of literature and industry, the way
through France is now open. "We flatter ourselves that we
shall cultivate, with great diligence, the arts of peace ; and
every man will be welcome among us who can teach us any-
thing we do not know. For your part, you will find aU your
old friends willing to receive you.

' Reynolds stiU continues to increase in reputation and in
riches. Miss "WiUiams, who very much loves you, goes on in
the old way. Miss Cotterell is stiU with Mrs. Porter. Miss
Charlotte is married to Dean Lewis, and has three children.
Mr. Levet has married a street- walker. But the gazette of my
narration must now arrive to tell you that Bathurst went
physician to the army, and died at the Havanuah.

' I know not whether I have not sent you word that Huggins
and Richardson axe both dead. When we see our enemies
and friends gliding away before us, let us not forget that we
are subject to the general law of mortality, and shall soon be
where our doom will be fijsed for ever. I pray Grod to bless
you, and am, sir, your most affectionate humble servant,

'Sam. Johnson.

' Write soon-'

In 1763 he furnished to The Poetical Calendar, pub-
lished by Fawkes and Woty, a character of Collins,
which he afterwards ingrafted into his entire life of
that admirable poet, in the collection of lives which
he wrote for the body of English poetry^ formed and
published by the booksellers of London. His account
of the melancholy depression with which Collins was

^T. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 61

severely afBictedj and which brought him to his grave,
is, I think, one of the most tender and interesting
passages in the whole series of his writings. He also
favoured Mr. Hoole with the Dedication of his trans-
lation of Tasso to the Queen, which is so happily
conceived and elegantly expressed, that I cannot but
point it out to the peculiar notice of my readers.^

This is to me a memorable year ; for in it I had the
happiness to obtain the acquaintance of that extra-
ordinary man whose memoirs I am now writing ; an
acquaintance which I shall ever esteem as one of the
most fortunate circumstances in my life. Though
then but two-and-twenty, I had for several years read
his works with delight and instruction, and had the
highest reverence for their author, which had grown
up in my fancy into a kind of mysterious veneration,
by figuring to myself a state of solemn elevated
abstraction, in which I supposed him to live in the
immense metropolis of London. Mr. Gentleman, a
native of Ireland, who passed some years in Scotland

1 ' Madam, — To approach the high and illustrious has heen in all
ages the privilege of Poets ; and though translators cannot justly
claim the same honour, yet they naturally follow their authors as
attendants ; and I hope that in return for having enabled Tasso to
diffuse his fame through the British dominions, I may be introduced
by him to the presence of Your Majesty.

' Tasso has a peculiar claim to Your Majesty's favour, as follower
and panegyrist of the House of Este, which has one common ancestor
with the House of Hanover ; and in reviewing his life it is not easy to
forbear a wish that he had lived in a happier time, when he might
among the descendants of that illustrious family have found a more
Uberal and potent patronage.

' I cannot but observe, Madam, how unequally reward is propor-
tioned to merit, when I reflect that the happiness which was with*
held from Tasso is reserved for me ; and that the poem which once hardly
procured to its author the countenance of the Princes of Ferrara, hak
attracted to its translator the favourable notice of a British Queen.

' Had this been the fate of Tasso, he would have been able to have
celebrated the condescension of Your Majesty in nobler language, but
could not have fejt it with more ardent gratitude, than, Madam, Your
Majesty's most faithful and devoted servant.'

52 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

as a player, and as an instructor in the English
language, a man whose talents and worth were de-
pressed by misfortunes, had given me a representa^
tion of the figure and manner of Dictionary Johnson !
as he was then generally called ; ^ and during my first
visit to London, which was for three months in 1760,
Mr. Derrick the poet, who was Gentleman's friend
and countryman, flattered me with hopes that he
would introduce me to Johnson, an honour of which
I was very ambitious. But he never found an
opportunity ; which made me doubt that he had pro-
mised to do what was not in his power ; till Johnson
some years afterwards told me, ' Derrick, sir, might
very well have introduced you. I had a kindness for
Derrick, and am sorry he is dead.'

In the summer of 1761 Mr. Thomas Sheridan was
at Edinburgh, and delivered lectures upon the English
Language and Public Speaking to large and respect-
able audiences. I was often in his company, and
heard him frequently expatiate on Johnson's extra-
ordinary knowledge, talents, and virtues, repeat his
pointed sayings, describe his particularities, and boast
of his being his guest sometimes till two or three in
the morning. At his house I hoped to have many
opportunities of seeing the sage, as Mr. Sheridan
obligingly assured me I should not be disappointed.

When I returned to London in the end of 1762, to
my surprise and regret I found an irreconcilable

1 As great men of antiquity, such as Scipio Africanus, had an epithet
added to their names, in consequence of some celebrated action, so my
illustrious friend was often called Dictionary Johnson, from that
wonderful achievement of genius and labour, his Dictionary of the
English Language \ the merit of which I contemplate with more and
more admiration.

^T. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 63

difference had taken place between Johnson and
Sheridan, A pension of two hundred pounds a year
had been given to Sheridan. Johnson, who, as has
been already mentioned, thought slightingly of Sheri-
dan's art, upon hearing that he was also pensioned,
exclaimed, ' What ! have they given him a pension ?
Then it is time for me to give up mine.' Whether
this proceeded from a momentary indignation, as if
it were an affront to his exalted merit that a player
should be rewarded in the same manner with him, or
was the sudden effect of a iit of peevishness, it was
unluckily said, and, indeed, cannot be justified. Mr.
Sheridan's pension was granted to him not as a player,
but as a sufferer in the cause of Government, when he
was manager of the Theatre Royal in Ireland, when
parties ran high in 1753. And it must also be allowed
that he was a man of literature, and had considerably
improved the arts of reading and speaking with dis-
tinctness and propriety.

Besides, Johnson should have recollected that Mr.
Sheridan taught pronunciation to Mr. Alexander
Wedderburne, whose sister was married to Sir Harry
Erskine, an intimate friend of Lord Bute, who was the
favourite of the King ; and surely the most outrageous
Whig will not maintain that, whatever ought to be
the principle in the disposal of offices, a pension ought
never to be granted from any bias of court connection.
Mr. Macklin, indeed, shared with Mr. Sheridan the
honour of instructing Mr. Wedderburne ; and though
it was too late in life for a Caledonian to acquire the
genuine English cadence, yet so successful were Mr.
Wedderburne's instructors, and his own unabatiug
endeavours, that he got rid of the coarse part of the

54 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

Scotch accent, retaining only as much of the ' native
wood-note wild ' as to mark his country ; which, if
any Scotchman should affect to forget, I should
heartily despise him. Nowithstanding the difficulties
which are to be encountered by those who have not
had the advantage of an English education, he by
degrees formed a mode of speaking, to which English-
men do not deny the praise of elegance. Hence his
distinguished oratory, which he exerted in his own
country as an advocate in the Court of Session, and a
rulmg elder of the Kirk, has had its fame and ample
reward in much higher spheres. When I look back
on this noble person at Edinburgh, in situations so
unworthy of his brilliant powers, and behold Lord
Loughborough at London, the change seems almost
like one of the metamorphoses in Ovid ; and as his
two preceptors, by refining his utterance, gave cur-
rency to his talents, we may say in the words of that
poet, ' Nam vos mutastis. '

I have dwelt the longer upon this remarkable in-
stance of successful parts and assiduity ; because it
affords animating encouragement to other gentlemen
of North Britain to try their fortunes in the southern
part of the island, where they may hope to gratify
their utmost ambition ; and now that we are one
people by the Union, it would surely be illiberal to
maintain that they have not an equal title with the
natives of any other part of his Majesty's dominions.

Johnson complained that a man who disliked him
repeated his sarcasm to Mr. Sheridan, without telling
him what followed, which was, that after a pause he
added, ' However, I am glad that Mr. Sheridan has a
pension, for he is a very good man. ' Sheridan coulp

JET.S4] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 55

never forgive this hasty contemptuous expression. It
rankled in his mind ; and though I informed him of
all that Johnson said, and that he would he very glad
to meet him amicably, he positively declined repeated
offers which I made, and once went off abruptly from
a house where he and I were engaged to dine, because
he was told that Dr. Johnson was to be there. I
have no sympathetic feeling with such persevering
resentment. It is painful when there is a breach
between those who have lived together socially and
cordially ; and I wonder there is not, in all such cases,
a mutual wish that it should be healed. I could per-
ceive that Mr. Sheridan was by no means satisfied
with Johnson's acknowledging him to be a good man.
That could not soothe his injured vanity. I could
not but smile, at the same time that I was offended,
to observe Sheridan in the Life of Swift, which he
afterwards published, attempting, in the writhings of
his resentment, to depreciate Johnson, by character-
ising him as ' a writer of gigantic fame in these days
of little men ' ; that very Johnson whom he once so
highly admired and venerated.

This rupture with Sheridan deprived Johnson of
one of his most agreeable resources for amusement in
his lonely evenings ; for Sheridan's well-informed,
animated, and bustling mind never suffered conversa-
tion to stagnate ; and Mrs. Sheridan was a most
agreeable companion to an intellectual man. She was
sensible, ingenious, unassuming, yet communicative.
I recollect, with satisfaction, many pleasing hours
which I passed with her under the hospitable roof of
her husband, who was to me a very kind friend. Her
novel, entitled Memoirs of Miss Sydney Biddulph, con-

66 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

tains an excellent moral while it inculcates a future
state of retribution ; ^ and what it teaches is impressed
upon the mind by a series of as deep distress as can
aflFect humanity, in the amiable and pious heroine who
goes to her grave unrelieved, but resigned, and full
of hope of ' Heaven's mercy. ' Johnson paid her this
high compliment upon it : ' I know not, madam, that
you have a right upon moral principles to make your
readers suflFer so much.'

Mr. Thomas Davies the actor, who then kept a
bookseller's shop in Russel Street, Covent Garden,*

1 My position has been very well illustrated by Mr. Belsham of
Bedford, in his Essay on Dramatic Poetry. ' The fashionable doctrine
(says he) both of moralists and critics in these times is, that virtue and
happiness are constant concomitants ; and it is regarded as a kind of
dramatic impiety to maintain that virtue should not be rewarded, nor
vice punished, in the last scene of the last act of every tragedy. This
conduct in our modern poets is, however, in my opinion, extremely
injudicious ; for it labours in vain to inculcate a doctrine in theory,
which every one knows to be false in fact, viz. , that virtue in real life
is always productive of happiness, and vice of misery. Thus Congreve
concludes the Tragedy of The Mourning Bride with the following
foolish couplet : —

" For blessings ever wait on virtuous deeds,
And, though a late, a sure reward succeeds."

'When a man eminently virtuous, a Brutus, a Cato, or a Socrates,
finally sinks under the pressure of accumulated misfortune, we are not
only led to entertain a more indignant hatred of vice than if he rose
from his distress, but we are inevitably induced to cherish the sublime
idea that a day of future retribution will arrive when he shall receive
not merely poetical, but real and substantial justice.' — Essays Philoso-
phical, Historical, and Literary, London, 1791, vol. ii. 8vo, p. 317.

This is well reasoned and well expressed. I wish, indeed, that the
ingenious author had not thought it necessary to introduce any instance
of ' a man eminently virtuous ' ; as he would then have avoided mention-
ing such a ruffian as Brutus under that description. Mr. Belsham
discovers in his Essays so much reading and thinking and good com-
position, that I regret his not having been fortunate enough to be
educated a member of our excellent national establishment. Had he
not been nursed in nonconformity, he probably would not have been
tainted with those heresies (as I sincerely, and on no slight investiga-
tion, think them) both in religion and politics, which, while I read, I
am sure, with candour, I cannot read without offence.

2 No. 8. The very place where I was fortunate enough to be intro-
duced to the illustrious subject of this work deserves to be particnlarly
marked. I never piass by it without feeling reverence and regret.

^T. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 57

told me that Johnson was very much his friend, and
came frequently to his house, where he more than
once invited me to meet him ; but by some unlucky
accident or other he was prevented from coming to us.

Mr. Thomas Davies was a man of good understanding
and talents, with the advantage of a liberal education.
Though somewhat pompous, he was an entertaining
companion ; and his literary performances have no
inconsiderable share of merit. He was a friendly and
very hospitable man. Both he and his wife (who has
been celebrated for her beauty), though upon the
stage for many years, maintained a uniform decency
of character : and Johnson esteemed them, and lived
in as easy an intimacy with them as with any family
he used to visit. Mr. Davies recollected several of
Johnson's remarkable sayings, and was one of the
best of the many imitators of his voice and manner
while relating them. He increased my impatience
more and more to see the extraordinary man whose
works I highly valued, and whose conversation was
reported to be so peculiarly excellent.

At last, on Monday the 16th of May, when I was
sitting in Mr. Davies's back parlour, after having
drunk tea with him and Mrs. Davies, Johnson un-
expectedly came into the shop ; ^ and Mr. Davies

1 Mr. Murphy, in his Essay on the Life and Genius of Dr. Johnson,
has given an account of this meeting considerably different from mine,
I am persuaded without any consciousness of error. _ His memory, at
the end of near thirty years, has undoubtedly deceived him, and he
supposes himself to have been present at a scene, which he has pro-
bably heard inaccurately described by others. In my note, taken on the
very day, in which I am confident I marked everything material that
passed, no mention is made of this gentleman ; and I am sure that I
should not have omitted one so well known in the literary world. It
may easily be imagined that this my first interview with Dr. Johnson,
with all its circumstances, nuide a strong impression on my mind, and
would be registered with peculiar attention.

58 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

having' perceived him through the glass door in the
room in which we were sitting, advancing towards us,
— ^he announced his awful approach to me, somewhat
in the manner of an actor in the part of Horatio,
when he addresses Hamlet on the appearance of his
father's ghost, ' Look, my Lord, it comes.' I found
that I had a very perfect idea of Johnson's figure,
from the portrait of him painted by Sir Joshua
Reynolds soon after he had published his Dictionary,
in the attitude of sitting in his easy-chair in deep
meditation ; which was the first picture his friend did
for him, which Sir Joshua very kindly presented to
me, and from which an engraving has been made for
this work. Mr. Davies mentioned my name, and
respectfully introduced me to him. I was much
agitated; and recollecting his prejudice against the
Scotch, of which I had heard much, I said to Davies,
' Don't tell where I come from.' ' From Scotland,'
cried Davies roguishly. ' Mr. Johnson (said I), I do
indeed come from Scotland, but 1 cannot help it'
I am willing to flatter myself that I meant this as
light pleasantry to soothe and conciliate him, and not
as a humiliating abasement at the expense of my
country. But however that might be, this speech
was somewhat unlucky; for with that quickness of
wit for which he was so remarkable, he seized the
expression ' come from Scotland,' which I used in
the sense of being of that country ; and, as if I had
said that I had come away from it, or left it, retorted,
' That, sir, I find, is what a very great many of your
countrymen cannot help.' This stroke stunned me a
good deal ; and when we had sat down I felt myself
not a little embarrassed and apprehensive of what

<ffiT. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 59

might come next. He then addressed himself to
Davies : ' What do you think of Garrick .'' He has
refused me an order for the play for Miss Williams,
because he knows the house will be full, and that an
order would be worth three shillings.' Eager to take
any opening to get into conversation with him, I
ventured to say, ' O, sir, I cannot think Mr. Garrick
would grudge such a trifle to you.' ' Sir (said he,
with a stern look) I have known David Garrick longer
than you have done : and I know no right you have
to talk to me on the subject.' Perhaps I deserved
this check ; for it was rather presumptuous in me, an
entire stranger, to express any doubt of the justness
of the animadversion upon his old acquaintance and
pupil. ^ I now felt myself much mortified, and began
to think that the hope which I had long indulged of
obtaining his acquaintance was blasted. And, in
truth, had not my ardour been uncommonly strong,
and my resolution uncommonly persevering, so rough
a reception might have deterred me for ever from
making any further attempts. Fortunately, however,
I remained upon the field not wholly discomfited ;
and was soon rewarded by hearing some of his con-
versation, of which I preserved the following short
minute, without marking the questions and observa-
tions by which it was produced.

' People (he remarked) may be taken in once, who

1 That this was a momentary sally against Garrick there can be no
doubt ; for at Johnson's desire he had, some years before, given a
benefit night at his theatre to this very person, by which she had got
two hundred pounds. Johnson, indeed, upon all other occasions, when
I was in his company, praised the very liberal charity of Garrick.
I once mentioned to him, ' It is observed, sir, that you attack Garrick
yourself, but will suffer nobody else to do it." Johnson (smiling),
Why, sir, that is very true.'

60 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

imagine that an author is greater in private file than
other men. Uncommon parts require uncommon
opportunities for their exertion.

' In barbarous society, superiority of parts is of real
consequence. Great strength or great wisdom is of
much value to an individual. But in more polished
times there are people to do everything for money ;
and then there are a number of other superiorities,
such as those of birth and fortune and rank, that dis-
sipate men's attention, and leave no extraordinary
share of respect for personal and intellectual superior-
ity. This is wisely ordered by Providence, to preserve
some equality among mankind.'

* Sir, this book {The Elements of Criticism, which
he had taken up) is a pretty essay, and deserves to
be held in some estimation, though much of it is
chimerical.'

Speaking of one who with more than ordinary bold-
ness attacked public measures and the royal family,
he said, ' I think he is safe from the law, but he is an
abusive scoundrel ; and instead of applying to my
Lord Chief-Justice to punish him I would send half a
dozen footmen and have him well ducked. '

' The notion of liberty amuses the people of Eng-
land, and helps to keep off the tcedium vitcB. When a
butcher tells you that his heart bleeds for his country,
he has, in fact, no uneasy feeling. '

' Sheridan will not succeed at Bath with his oratory.
Ridicule has gone down before him, and, I doubt,
Derrick is his enemy. ^

' Derrick may do very well, as long as he can out-

1 Mr. Sheridan was then reading lectures upon Oratory at Bath,
where Derrick was Master of the Ceremonies ; or, as the phrase is, King.

JET. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 61

run his character ; hut the moment his character gets
up with him^ it is all over. '

It is, however, but just to record, that some years
afterwards, when I reminded him of this sarcasm, he
said, ' Well, but Derrick has now got a character that
he need not run away from.'

I was highly pleased with the extraordinary vigour
of his conversation, and regretted that I was drawn
away from it by an engagement at another place. I
had, for a part of the evening, been left alone with him,
and had ventured to make an observation now and
then, which he received very civilly ; so that I was
satisfied that though there was a roughness in his
manner there was no ill-nature in his disposition.
Davies followed me to the door, and when I com-
plained to him a little of the hard blows which the
great man had given me, he kindly took upon him to
console me by saying, ' Don't be uneasy. I can see
he likes you very well. '

A few days afterwards I called on Davies, and asked
him if he thought I might take the liberty of waiting
on Mr. Johnson at his chambers in the Temple. He
said I certainly might, and that Mr. Johnson would
take it as a compliment. So upon Tuesday the 24th
of May, after having been enlivened by the witty
sallies of Messieurs Thornton, Wilkes, Churchill, and
Lloyd, with whom I had passed the morning, I boldly
repaired to Johnson. His chambers were on the first
floor of No. 1 Inner Temple Lane, and I entered them
with an impression given me by the Rev. Dr. Blair
of Edinburgh, who had been introduced to him not
long before, and described his having ' found the
Giant in his den ' ; an expression which, when I came

62 LIFE OF DR, JOHNSON [1763

to be pretty well acquainted with Johnson, I repeated
to him, and he was diverted at this picturesque account
ot himself. Dr. Blair had been presented to him by
Dr. James Fordyce. At this time the controversy
concerning the pieces published by Mr. James Mac-
pherson as translations of Ossian was at its height.
Johnson had all along denied their authenticity ; and,
what was still more provoking to their admirers,
maintained that they had no merit. The subject
having been introduced by Dr. Fordyce, Dr. Blair,
relying on the internal evidence of their antiquity,
asked Dr. Johnson whether he thought any man of a
modern age could have written such poems ? Johnson
replied, ' Yes, sir, many men, many women, and
many children.' Johnson, at this time, did not know
that Dr. Blair had just published a Dissertation, not
only defending their authenticity, but seriously
ranking them with the poems of Homer and Virgil ;
and when he was afterwards informed of this circum-
stance, he expressed some displeasure at Dr. Fordyce's
having suggested the topic, and said, ' I am not sorry
that they got thus much for their pains. Sir, it was
like leading one to talk of a book when the author is
concealed behind the door.'

He received me very courteously ; but it must be
confessed that his apartment, and furniture, and
morning dress were sufficiently uncouth. His brown
suit of clothes looked very rusty ; he had on a little
old shrivelled unpowdered wig, which was too small
for his head ; his shirt-neck and knees of his breeches
were loose ; his black worsted stockings ill drawn up ;
and he had a pair of unbuckled shoes by way of
slippers. But all these slovenly particularities were

/ET. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 63

forgotten the moment that he began to talk. Some
gentlemen, whom I do not recollect, were sitting with
him ; and when they went away I also rose ; but he
said to me, ' Nay, don't go.' ' Sir (said I), I am
afraid that I intrude upon you. It is benevolent to
allow me to sit and hear you.' He seemed pleased
with this compliment, which I sincerely paid him, and
answered, ' Sir, I am obliged to any man who visits
me. ' I have preserved the following short minute of
what passed this day.

' Madness frequently discovers itself merely by un-
necessary deviation from the usual modes of the world.
My poor friend Smart showed the disturbance of his
mind by falling upon his knees and saying his prayers
in the street, or in any other unusual place. Now
although, rationally speaking, it is greater madness
not to pray at all than to pray as Smart did, I am
afraid there are so many who do not pray that their
understanding is not called in question.'

Concerning this unfortunate poet, Christopher
Smart, who was confined in a madhouse, he had, at
another time, the following conversation with Dr.
Bumey. Bubney : ' How does poor Smart do, sir ?
is he likely to recover ? ' Johnson : It seems as if his
mind had ceased to struggle with the disease ; for he
grows fat upon it.' Burney: 'Perhaps, sir, that
may be from want of exercise.' Johnson : ' No, sir ;
he has partly as much exercise as he used to have, for
he digs in the garden. Indeed, before his confinement,
he used for exercise to walk to the ale-house ; but he
was carried back again. I did not think he ought
to be shut up. His infirmities were not noxious to
society. He insisted on people praying with him ;

64 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

and I 'd as lief pray with Kit Smart as any one else.
Another charge was, that he did not love clean linen ;
and I have no passion for it.'

Johnson continued. ' Mankind had a great aver-
sion to intellectual labour ; but even supposing know-
ledge to be easily attainable, more people would be
content to be ignorant than would take even a little
trouble to acquire it.

* The morality of an action depends on the motive
from which we act. If I fling half a crown to a
beggar with intention to break his head, and he picks
it up and buys victuals with it, the physical effect is
good ; but with respect to me the action is very
wrong. So, religious exercises, if not performed with
an intention to please God, avail us nothing. As our
Saviour says of those who perform them from other
motives, " Verily they have their reward."

' The Christian religion has very strong evidences.
It, indeed, appears in some degree strange to reason ;
but in history we have undoubted facts, against which,
in reasoning d priori, we have more arguments than
we have for them ; but then, testimony has great
weight, and casts the balance. I would recommend
to every man whose faith is yet unsettled, Grotius,
Dr. Pearson, and Dr. Clarke.'

Talking of Garrick, he said, ' He is the first man in
the world for sprightly conversation.'

When I rose a second time he again pressed me to
stay, which I did.

He told me that he generally went abroad at four
in the afternoon, and seldom came home till two in
the morning. I took the liberty to ask if he did not
think it wrong to live thus, and not make more use of

^T. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 65

his great talents. He owned it was a bad habit. On
reviewing, at the distance of many years^ my journal
of this period, I wonder how, at my first visit, I
ventured to talk to him so freely, and that he bore it
with so much indulgence.

Before we parted he was so good as to promise to
favour me with his company one evening at my lodg-
ings ; and as I took my leave, shook me cordially by
the hand. It is almost needless to add, that I felt no
little elation at having now so happily established an
acquaintance of which I had been so long ambitious.

My readers will, I trust, excuse me for being thus
minutely circumstantial, when it is considered that
the acquaintance of Dr. Johnson was to me a most
valuable acquisition, and laid the foundation of what-
ever instruction and entertainment they may receive
from my collections concerning the great subject of
the work which they are now perusing.

I did not visit him again till Monday, June 13, at
which time I recollect no part of his conversation,
except that when I told him I had been to see Johnson
ride upon three horses, he said, 'Such a man, sir,
should be encouraged ; for his performances show the
extent of the human powers in one instance, and thus
tend to raise our opinion of the faculties of man. He
shows what may be attained by persevering applica-
tion ; so that every man may hope that by giving as
much application, although perhaps he may never ride
three horses at a time, or dance upon a wire, yet he
may be equally expert in whatever profession he has
chosen to pursue.'

He again shook me by the hand at parting, and
asked me why I did not come oftener to him. Trust-

VOL. II. B

66 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

ing that I was now in his good gi-aces, I answered,
that he had not given me much encouragement, and
reminded him of the check I had received from him
at our first interview. ' Poh, poh ! (said he, with a
complacent smUe), never mind these things. Come
to me as often as you can. I shall be glad to see
you.'

I had learnt that his place of frequent resort was
the Mitre tavern in Fleet Street, where he loved to
sit up late, and I begged I might be allowed to pass
an evening with him there soon, which he promised I
should. A few days afterwards I met him near
Temple Bar about one o'clock in the morning, and
asked if he would then go to the Mitre. ' Sir (said
he), it is too late ; they won't let us in. But I '11 go
with you another night with all my heart.'

A revolution of some importance in my plan of life
had just taken place ; for instead of procuring a com-
mission in the foot-guards, which was my own inclina-
tion, I had, in compliance with my father's wishes,
agreed to study the law, and was soon to set out for
Utrecht, to hear the lectures of an excellent Civilian
in that University, and then to proceed on my travels.
Though very desirous of obtaining Dr. Johnson's
advice and instruction on the mode of pursuing my
studies^ I was at this time so occupied, shall I call it .''
or so dissipated, by the amusements of London, that
our next meeting was not till Saturday, June 25, when,
happening to dine at Clifton's eating-house in Butcher
Row, I was surprised to perceive Johnson come in and
take his seat at another table. The mode of dining,
or rather being fed, at such houses in London is well
known to many to be particularly unsocial, as there

^T. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 67

is no Ordinary, or united company, but each person
has his own mess, and is under no obligation to hold
any intercourse with any one. A liberal and full-
minded man, however, who loves to talk will break
through this churlish and unsocial restraint John-
son and an Irish gentleman got into a dispute con-
cerning the cause of some part of mankind being
black. 'Why, sir (said Johnson), it has been ac-
counted for in three ways : either by supposing that
they are the posterity of Ham, who was cursed ; or
that God at first created two kinds of men, one black
and another white ; or that by the heat of the sun the
skin is scorched, and so acquires a sooty hue. This
matter has been much canvassed among naturalists,
but has never been brought to any certain issue.'
What the Irishman said is totally obliterated from my
mind ; but I remember that he became very warm
and intemperate in his expressions, upon which
Johnson rose and quietly walked away. When he
had retired, his antagonist took his revenge, as he
thought, by saying, ' He has a most ungainly figure,
and an affectation of pomposity unworthy of a man
of genius.'

Johnson had not observed that I was in the room.
I followed him, however, and he agreed to meet me
in the evening at the Mitre. I called on him, and we
went thither at nine. We had a good supper, and
port wine, of which he then sometimes drank a bottle.
The orthodox high-church sound of the Mitre, — the
figure and manner of the celebrated Samuel Johnson,
— the extraordinary power and precision of his con-
versation, and the pride ■ arising from finding myself
admitted as his companion, produced a variety of

68 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

eensationSj and a pleasing elevation of mind beyond
what I had ever before experienced. I find in my
Journal the following minute of our conversation,
which, though it will give but a very faint notion of
what passed, is, in some degree, a valuable record ;
and it will be curious in this view as showing how
habitual to his mind were some opinions which appear
in his works,

' Colley Gibber, sir, was by no means a blockhead ;
but by arrogating to himself too much, he was in
danger of losing that degree of estimation to which he
was entitled. His friends give out that he intended
his birthday Odes should be bad : but that was not
the case, sir ; for he kept them many months by him,
and a few years before he died he showed me one of
them, with great solicitude to render it as perfect as
might be, and I made some corrections, to which he
was not very willing to submit. I remember the fol-
lowing couplet in allusion to the King and himself :

"Perch'd on the eagle's soaring -wmg.
The lowly linnet loves to sing."

Sir, he had heard something of the fabulous tale of
the wren sitting upon the eagle's wing, and he had
applied it to a linnet. Gibber's familiar style, how-
ever, was better than that which ^VTiitehead has
assumed. Grand nonsense is insupportable. WTiite-
head is but a little man to inscribe verses to
players.'

I did not presume to controvert this censure, which
was tinctured with his prejudice against players, but
1 could not help thinking that a dramatic poet might
with propriety pay a compliment to an eminent per-

MT.S4] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 69

former, as Whitehead has very happily done in his
verses to Mr. Garrick.

' Sir, I do not think Gray a first-rate poet. He has
not a bold imagination, nor much command of words.
The obscurity in which he has involved himself will
not persuade us that he is sublime. His " Elegy in a
Churchyard " has a happy selection of images, but I
don't like what are called his great things. His Ode
which begins

" Ruin seize thee, ruthless King,
Confusion on thy banners wait ! "

has been celebrated for its abruptness, and plunging
into the subject all at once. But such arts as these
have no merit, unless when they are original. We
admire them only once ; and this abruptness has
nothing new in it. We have had it often before.
Nay, we have it in the old song of Johnny Armstrong :

"Is there ever a man in all Scotland,
From the highest estate to the lowest degree," etc.

And then, sir,

"Yes, there is a man in Westmoreland,
And Johnny Armstrong they do him call."

There, now, you plunge at once into the subject.
You have no previous narration to lead you to it. —
The two next lines in that Ode are, I think, very
good :

"Though fann'd by conquest's crimson wing.
They mock the air with idle state." ' ^

1 My friend Mr. Malone, in his valuable comments on Shakespeare,
has traced in that g^eat poet the disjecta membra of these lines.

70 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

Here let it be observed, that although his opinion
of Gray's poetry was widely different from mine, and
I believe from that of most men of taste, by whom it
is with justice highly admired, there is certainly much
absurdity in the clamour which has been raised, as if
he had been culpably injurious to the merit of that
bard, and had been actuated by envy. Alas ! ye little
short-sighted critics, could Johnson be envious of the
talents of any of his contemporaries? That his
opinion on this subject was what in private and in
public he uniformly expressed, regardless of what
others might think, we may wonder, and perhaps
regret ; but it is shallow and unjust to charge him
with expressing what he did not think.

Finding him in a placid humour, and wishing to
avail myself of the opportunity which I fortunately
had of consulting a sage, to hear whose wisdom, I
conceived in the ardour of youthful imagination, that
men fiUed with a noble enthusiasm for intellectual
improvement would gladly have resorted from distant
lands, I opened my mind to him ingenuously, and
gave him a little sketch of my life, to which he was
pleased to listen with great attention.

I acknowledged, that though educated very strictly
in the principles of religion, I had for some time been
misled into a certain degree of infidelity ; but that T
was come now to a better way of thinking, and was
fully satisfied of the truth of the Christian revelation,
though I was not clear as to every point considered
to be orthodox. Being at all times a curious examiner
of the human mind, and pleased with an undisguised
display of what had passed in it, he called to me with
warmth, * Give me your hand ; I have taken a liking

;et. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 71

to you.' He then began to descant upon the force
of testimony, and the little we could know of final
causes; so that the objections of. Why was it so?
or. Why was it not so .'' ought not to disturb us :
adding, that he himself had at one period been guilty
of a temporary neglect of religion, but that it was
not the result of argument, but mere absence of
thought.

After having given credit to reports of his bigotry,
I was agreeably surprised when he expressed the fol-
lowing very liberal sentiment, which has the addi-
tional value of obviating an objection to our holy
religion, founded upon the discordant tenets of Chris-
tians themselves : ' For my part, sir, I think all
Christians, whether Papists or Protestants, agree in
the essential articles, and that their differences are
trivial, and rather political than religious.'

We talked of belief in ghosts. He said, ' Sir, I
make a distinction between what a man may experi-
ence by the mere strength of his imagination, and
what imagination cannot possibly produce. Thus,
suppose I should think that I saw a form, and heard
a voice cry, " Johnson, you are a very wicked fellow,
and unless you repent you will certainly be punished";
my own unworthiness is so deeply impressed upon my
mind that I might imagine I thus saw and heard, and
therefore I should not believe that an external com-
munication had been made to me. But if a form
should appear, and a voice should tell me that a parti-
cular man had died at a particular place, and a par-
ticular hour, a fact which I had no apprehension of,
nor any means of knowing, and this fact, with all its
circumstances, should afterwards be unquestionably

72 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

proved, I should, in that case, be persuaded that I
had supernatural intelligence imparted to me.'

Here it is proper, once for all, to give a true and
fair statement of Johnson's way of thinking upon the
question, whether departed spirits are ever permitted
to appear in this world, or in any way to operate upon
human life. He has been ignorantly misrepresented
as weakly credulous upon that subject ; and there-
fore, though I feel an inclination to disdain and treat
with silent contempt so foolish a notion concerning
my illustrious friend, yet, as I find it has gained
ground, it is necessary to refute it. The real fact
then is, that Johnson had a very philosophical mind,
and such a rational respect for testimony as to make
him submit his understanding to what was authenti-
cally proved, though he could not comprehend why it
was so. Being thus disposed, he was willing to inquire
into the truth of any relation of supernatural agency,
a general belief of which has prevailed in all nations
and ages. But so far was he from being the dupe of
implicit faith, that he examined the matter with a
jealous attention, and no man was more ready to
refute its falsehood when he had discovered it.
Churchill, in his poem entitled 'The Ghost,' availed
himself of the absurd credulity imputed to Johnson,
and drew a caricature of him under the name of
'Pomposo,' representing him as one of the believers
of the story of a Ghost in Cock Lane, which, in the
year 1762, had gained very general credit in London,
Many of my readers, I am convinced, are to this hour
under an impression that Johnson was thus foolishly
deceived. It will therefore surprise them a good dela
when they are informed, upon undoubted authority.

iET. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 73

that Johnson was one of those by whom the imposture
was detected. The story had become so popular, that
he thought it should be investigated ; and in this
research he was assisted by the Reverend Dr. Douglas,
now Bishop of Salisbury, the great detecter of im-
postures, who informs me that after the gentlemen
who went and examined into the evidence were
satisfied of its falsity, Johnson wrote in their presence
an account of it, which was published in the news-
papers and Gentleman's Magazine, and undeceived the
world. *

1 The account was as follows : ' On the night of the ist of February,
many gentlemen, eminent for their rank and character, were, by the
invitation of the Reverend Mr. Aldrich, of Clerkenwell, assembled at
his house, for the examination of the noises supposed to be made by a
departed spirit, for the detection of some enormous crime.

' About ten at night the gentlemen met in the chamber in which the
girL supposed to be disturbed by a spirit, had, with proper caution,
been put to bed by several ladies. They sat rather more than an hour,
and, tearing nothing, went downstairs, when they interrogated the
father of the girl, who denied, in the strongest terms, any knowledge or
belief of fraud.

'The supposed spirit had before publicly promised, by an affirmative
knock, that it would attend one of the gentlemen into the vault under
the church of St. John, Clerkenwell, where the body is deposited, and
give a token of her presence there by a knock upon her coffin ; it was
therefore determined to make this trial of the existence or veracity of
the supposed spirit.

' While they were inquiring and deliberating, they were summoned
into the girl's chamber by some ladies who were near her bed, and who
had heard knocks and scratches. When the gentlemen entered, the
girl declared that she felt the spirit like a mouse upon her back, and
was required to hold her hands out of bed. From that time, though
the spirit was very solemnly required to manifest its existence by
appearance, by impression on the hand or body of any present, by
scratches, knocks, or any other agency, no evidence of any preter-
natural power was exhibited.

'The spirit was then very seriously advertised that the person to
whom the promise was made of strikmg the coffin was then about to
visit the vault, and that the performance of the promise was then
claimed. The company at one o'clock went into the church, and the
gentleman to whom the promise was made went with another into the
vault. The spirit was solemnly required to perform its promise, but
nothing more than silence ensued : the person supposed to be accused
by the spirit then went down with several others, but no effect was
perceived. Upon their return they examined the girl, but could draw

74 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

Our conversation proceeded. ' Sir (said he), I am
a friend to subordination, as most conducive to the
happiness of society. There is a reciprocal pleasure
in governing and being governed.'

'Dr. Goldsmith is one of the first men we now have
as an author, and he is a very worthy man too. He
has been loose in his principles, but he is coming
right.'

I mentioned Mallet's tragedy of Elvira, which had
been acted the preceding winter at Drury Lane, and
that the Honourable Andrew Erskine, Mr. Dempster,
and myself, had joined in writing a pamphlet, entitled
' Critical Strictures,' against it ; ^ that the mildness
of Dempster's disposition had, however, relented, and
he candidly said, ' We have hardly a right to abuse
this tragedy ; for, bad as it is, how vain should either
of us be to write one not near so good.' Johnson;
'Why, no, sir; this is not just reasoning. You may
abuse a tragedy, though you cannot write one. You
may scold a carpenter who has made you a bad table,
though you cannot make a table. It is not your trade
to make tables.'

"NVTien I talked to him of the paternal estate to
which I was heir, he said, ' Sir, let me tell you, that
to be a Scotch landlord, where you have a number of
families dependent upon you, and attached to you, is,
perhaps, as high a situation as humanity can arrive at.

no confession from her. Between two and three she desired and was
permitted to go home with her father.

' It is, therefore, the opinion of the whole assembly, that the child
has some art of making or counterfeiting a particular noise, and that
there is no agency of any higher cause. '

1 The Critical Review, in which Mallet himself sometimes wrote,
characterised this pamphlet as 'the crude efforts of envy, petulance,
and self-conceit.' There being thus three epithets, we the three authors
had a humorous contention how each should be appropriated.

iET. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 75

A merchant upon the 'Change of London, with
£100,000, is nothing ; an English Duke, with an
immense fortune, is nothing ; he has no tenants who
consider themselves as under his patriarchal care, and
who will follow him to the field upon an emergency.'

His notion of the dignity of a Scotch landlord had
been formed upon what he had heard of the Highland
Chiefs ; for it is long since a Lowland landlord has
been so curtailed in his feudal authority that he has
little more influence over his tenants than an English
landlord ; and of late years most of the Highland
Chiefs have destroyed, by means too well known, the
princely power which they once enjoyed.

He proceeded : ' You are going abroad, sir, and
breaking off idle habits may be of great importance to
you. I would go where there are courts and learned
men. There is a good deal of Spain that has not been
perambulated. I would have you go thither. A man
of inferior talents to yours may furnish us with useful
observations upon that country.' His supposing me,
at that period of life, capable of writing an account of
my travels that would deserve to be read, elated me
not a little.

I appeal to every impartial reader whether this
faithful detail of his frankness, complacency, and
kindness to a young man, a stranger and a Scotchman,
does not refute the unjust opinion of the harshness of
his general demeanour. His occasional reproofs of
folly, impudence, or impiety, and even the sudden
sallies of his constitutional irritability of temper,
which have been preserved for the poignancy of their
wit, have produced that opinion among those who have
not considered that such instances, though collected

76 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

by Mrs. Piozzi into a small volume, and read over in
a few hours, were, in fact, scattered through a long
series of years ; years in which his time was chiefly
spent in instructing and delighting mankind by his
writings and conversation, in acts of piety to God
and good-will to men.

I complained to him that I had not yet acquired
much knowledge, and asked his advice as to my
studies. He said, ' Don't talk of study now. I wUl
give you a plan ; but it will require some time to con-
sider of it.' 'It is very good in you (I replied) to
allow me to be with you thus. Had it been foretold
to me some years ago that I should pass an evening
with the author of the Rambler, how should I have
exulted !' What I then expressed was sincerely
from the heart. He was satisfied that it was, and
cordially answered, ' Sir, I am glad we have met. I
hope we shall pass many evenings, and mornings too,
together.' We finished a couple of bottles of port,
and sat till between one and two in the morning.

He wrote this year in the Critical Review the account
of *Telemachus, a Mask,' by the Reverend George
Graham, of Eton College. The subject of this
beautiful poem was particularly interesting to Johnson,
who had much experience of 'the conflict of opposite
principles,' which he describes as 'the contention
between pleasure and virtue, a struggle which wUl
always be continued while the present system of
nature shall subsist ; nor can history or poetry exhibit
more than pleasure triumphing over virtue, and virtue
subjugating pleasure.'

As Dr. Oliver Goldsmith will frequently appear in
this narrative, I shall endeavour to make my readers

JET.S4] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 77

in some degree acquainted with his singular character.
He was a native of Ireland, and a contemporary with
Mr. Burke at Trinity College, Dublin, but did not
then give much promise of future celebrity.^ He,
however, observed to Mr. Malone, that 'though he
made no great figure in mathematics, which was a
study in much repute there, he could turn an Ode of
Horace into English better than any of them.' He
afterwards studied physic at Edinburgh, and upon the
Continent, and, I have been informed, was enabled to
pursue his travels on foot, partly by demanding at
Universities to enter the lists as a disputant, by which,
according to the custom of many of them, he was
entitled to the premium of a crown, when luckily for
him his challenge was not accepted ; so that, as I once
observed to Dr. Johnson, he disputed his passage
through Europe. He then came to England, and was
employed successively in the capacities of an usher to
an academy, a corrector of the press, a reviewer, and
a writer for a newspaper. He had sagacity enough to
cultivate assiduously the acquaintance of Johnson,
and his faculties were gradually enlarged by the con-
templation of such a model. To me and many others
it appeared that he studiously copied the manner of
Johnson, though, indeed, upon a smaller scale.

At this time I think he had published nothing with

1 [Goldsmith got a premium at a Christmas examination in Trinity
College, Dublin, which I have seen.— K.]

[A _premium obtained at the Christmas examination is generally
more honourable than any other, because it ascertains the person who
receives it to be the first in literary merit. At the other examinations,
the person thus distinguished may be only the second in merit ; he who
has previously obtained the same honorary reward sometimes receiving
a written certificate that Ae was the best answerer, it being a rule that
no more than one premium should be adjudged to the same person in
one year. See vol. i. p. 261. — M.]

78 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

his name^ though it was pretty generally known that
one Dr. Goldsmith was the author of An Inquiry into
the Present State of Polite Learning in Europe, and of
The Citizen of the World — a series of letters supposed
to be written from London by a Chinese. '^ No man
had the art of displaying with more advantage as a
writer whatever literary acquisitions he made. 'Nihil
quod tetigit non ornavit.'^ His mind resembled a
fertile, but thin soil. There was a quick, but not a
strong vegetation, of whatever chanced to be thrown
upon it. No deep root could be struck. The oak of
the forest did not grow there ; but the elegant shrub-
bery and the fragrant parterre appeared in gay succes-
sion. It has been generally circulated and believed
that he was a mere fool in conversation ; ^ but in truth
this has been greatly exaggerated. He had, no doubt,
a more than common share of that hurry of ideas
which we often find in his countrymen, and which
sometimes produces a laughable confusion in express-
ing them. He was very much what the French call
un etourdi, and from vanity and an eager desire of

1 [He had also published, in 1759, ' TJte Bee, being Essays on the
most interesting subjects.' — M.]

2 See his Epitaph in Westminster Abbey, written by Dr. Johnson.

3 In allusion to this, Mr. Horace Walpole, who admired his writings,
said be was ' an inspired idiot ' ; and Garrick described him as one,

' for shortness call'd Noll,
Who wrote like an angel, and talk'd like poor Poll.'

Sir Joshua Reynolds mentioned to me that he frequently heard Gold-
smith talk warmly of the pleasure of being liked, and observe how hard
it would be if literary excellence should preclude a man from that
satisfaction, which he perceived it often did, from the envy which
attended it ; and therefore Sir Joshua was convinced that he was
intentionally more absurd, in order to lessen himself in social inter-
course, trusting that his character would be sufficiently supported by
his work. If it indeed was his intention to appear absurd in company,
he was often very successful. But with due deference to Sir Joshua's
ingenuity, I think the conjecture too refined.

yET. 54] LIFE OP DR. JOHNSON 79

being conspicuous wherever he was^ he frequently
talked carelessly without knowledge of the subject, or
even without thought. His person was short, his
countenance coarse and vulgar, his deportment that
of a scholar awkwardly affecting the easy gentleman.
Those who were in any way distinguished excited
envy in him to so ridiculous an excess that the
instances of it are hardly credible. When accompany-
ing two beautiful young ladies ^ with their mother on
a tour in France, he was seriously angry that more
attention was paid to them than to him ; and once at
the exhibition of the Fantoccini in London, when
those who sat next him observed with what dexterity
a puppet was made to toss a pike, he could not bear
that it should have such praise, and exclaimed with
some warmth, ' Pshaw ! I can do it better myself. ' ^

He, I am afraid, had no settled system of any sort,
so that his conduct must not be strictly scrutinised ;
but his affections were social and generous, and when
he had money he gave it away very liberally. His
desire of imaginary consequence predominated over
his attention to truth. When he began to rise into
notice, he said he had a brother who was Dean of
Durham,^ a fiction so easily detected, that It was
wonderful how he should have been so inconsiderate
as to hazard it. He boasted to me at this time of
the power of his pen in commanding money, which I

1 Miss Homecks, one of whom is now married to Henry Bunbury,
Esq., and the other to Colonel Gwyn.

2 He went home with Mr. Burke to supper ; and broke his shin by
attempting to exhibit to the company how much better he could jump
over a stick than the puppets.

3 I am willing to hope that there may have been some mistake as to
this anecdote, tnough I had it from a dignitary of the Church. Dr.
Isaac Goldsmith, his near relation, was Dean of Cloyne, in 1747.

80 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

believe was true in a certain degree^ though in the
instance he gave he was by no means correct. He told
me that he had sold a novel for four hundred pounds.
This was his Vicar of Wakefield. But Johnson in-
formed me^ that he had made the bargain for Gold-
smith, and the price was sixty pounds. 'And, sir
(said he), a sufficient price too, when it was sold ; for
then the fame of Goldsmith had not been elevated, as
it afterwards was, by his Traveller ; and the bookseller
had such faint hopes of profit by his bargain, that he
kept the manuscript by him a long time, and did not
publish it till after the Traveller had appeared. Then,
to be sure, it was accidentally worth more money.'

Mrs. Piozzi ^ and Sir John Hawkins ^ have strangely
mis-stated the history of Goldsmith's situation and
Johnson's friendly interference, when this novel was
sold. I shall give it authentically from Johnson's own
exact narration : —

'I received one morning a message from poor Goldsmith
that he was in great distress, and as it was not in his power
to come to me, begging that I would come to him as soon a»
possible. I sent him a guinea, and promised to come to him
directly. I accordingly went as soon as I was drest, and found
that his landlady had arrested him for his rent, at which he
was in a violent passion. I perceived that he had already
changed my guinea, and had got a bottle of Madeira and a
glass before him. I put the cork into the bottle, desired he
would be calm, and began to talk to him of the means by
which he might be extricated. He then told me that he had
a novel ready for the press, which he produced to me. I
looked into it, and saw its merit ; told the landlady I should
soon return, and, having gone to a bookseller, sold it for sixty
pounds. I brought Goldsmith the money, and he discharged

1 Anecdotes of Johnson. ^ Life of Johnson, p. 420.

;et. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 81

his rent, not without rating his landlady in a high tone for
having vised him so ill.' ^

My next meeting with Johnson was on Friday the
1st of July, when he and I and Dr. Goldsmith supped
at the Mitre. I was before this time pretty well
acquainted with Goldsmith, who was one of the
brightest ornaments of the Johnsonian school. Gold-
smith's respectful attachment to Johnson was then at
its height; for his own literary reputation had not
yet distinguished him so much as to excite a vain
desire of competition with his great Master. He had
increased my admiration of the goodness of Johnson's
heart by incidental remarks in the course of conversa-
tion ; such as, when I mentioned Mr. Levet, whom he
entertained under his roof, ^He is poor and honest,
which is recommendation enough to Johnson ' ; and
when I wondered that he was very kind to a man of
whom I had heard a very bad character, ' He is now
become miserable, and that ensures the protection of
Johnson. '

Goldsmith attempting this evening to maintain, I
suppose from an affectation of paradox, ^that know-

1 It may not be improper to annex here Mrs. Piozzi's account of this
transaction, in her own words, as a specimen of the extreme inaccuracy
with which all her anecdotes of Dr. Johnson are related, or rather dis-
coloured and distorted : ' I have forgotten the year, but it could
scarcely, I think, be later than 1765 or 1766, that he was called
abruptly jFront our house after dinner, and returning in about three
hours, said he had been with an enraged author, whose landlady
pressed him for payment within doors, while the bailiffs beset him
without ; that he was drinking himself drunk with Madeira, to drown
care, and fretting over a novel, which, when finished, was to be his
•whole fortune, but he could not get it done for distraction, nor could
he step out of doors to offer it for sale. Mr. Johnson, therefore, sent
away the bottle, and went to the bookseller, recommending the per-
formance, and desiring some immediate relief; which when he
brought back to the writer, he called the woman of the house directly
to partake of punch, and pass their time in merriment.' — Anecdotes
of Dr. Johnson.

VOL. II. p

82 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

ledge was not desirable on its own account, for it often
was a source of unhappiness. ' Johnson : ' Why, sir,
that knowledge may in some cases produce unhappi-
ness, I allow. But, upon the whole, knowledge, per
86, is certainly an object which every man would wish
to attain, although, perhaps, he may not take the
trouble necessary for attaining it.'

Dr. John Campbell, the celebrated political and
biographical writer, being mentioned, Johnson said,
* Campbell is a man of much knowledge, and has a
good share of imagination. His Hermippus Redi-
vivtis is very entertaining, as an account of the Her-
metic philosophy, and as furnishing a curious history
of the extravagances of the human mind. If it were
merely imaginary it would be nothing at all. Camp-
bell is not always rigidly careful of truth in his con-
versation ; but I do not believe there is anything of
this carelessness in his books. Campbell is a good
man, a pious man. I am afraid he has not been in
the inside of a church for many years ; ^ but he never
passes a church without pulling off his hat. This
shows that he has good principles. I used to go pretty

•1 I am inclined to think that he was misinformed as to this circum
stance. I own I am jealous for my worthy friend Dr. John Campbell.
For though Milton could without remorse absent himself from public
worship, I cannot. On the contrary, I have the same habitual im-
pressions upon my mind with those of a truly venerable Judge, who
said to Mr. Langton, ' Friend Langton, if I have not been at church on
a Sunday, I do not feel myself easy.' Dr. Campbell was a sincerely
religious man. Lord Macartney, who is eminent for his variety of
knowledge and attention to men of talents, and knew him well, told
me that when he called on him in a morning he found him reading a
chapter in the Greek New Testament, which he informed his Lordship
was his constant practice. The quantity of Dr. Campbell's composi-
tion is almost incredible, and his labours brought him large profits.
Dr. Joseph Warton told me that Johnson said of him, 'He is the
richest author that ever grazed the common of literature.' [Prices in
the last century for Histories and compilations were very high. Hawkes-
worth was paid £6000 for his collection of Travels. — ^A. B.]

^T. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 83

often to Campbell's on a Sunday evening, till I began
to consider that the shoals of Scotchmen who flocked
about him might probably say, when anything of
mine was well done, "Ay, ay, he has learnt this of
Cawmell ! " '

He talked very contemptuously of Churchill's
poetry, observing that ' it had a temporary currency
only from its audacity of abuse, and being filled with
living names, and that it would sink into oblivion.'
I ventured to hint that he was not quite a fair judge,
as ChurchiU had attacked him violently. Johnson :
'Nay, sir, I am a very fair judge. He did not attack
me violently till he found I did not like his poetry ;
and his attack on me shall not prevent me from con-
tinuing to say what I think of him, from an appre-
hension that it maybe ascribed to resentment. No,
sir, I called the feUow a blockhead at first, and I will
call him a blockhead still. However, I wiU acknow-
ledge that I have a better opinion of him now than
I once had, for he has shown more fertility than I
expected. To be sure, he is a tree that cannot pro-
duce good fruit: he only bears crabs. But, sir, a
tree that produces a great many crabs is better than
a tree which produces only a few.'

In this depreciation of Churchill's poetry I could
not agree with him. It is very true that the greatest
part of it is upon the topics of the day, on whicli
account, as it brought him great fame and profit at
the time, it must proportionably slide out of the
public attention as other occasional objects succeed.
But Churchill had extraordinary vigour both of
thought and expression. His portraits of the players
will ever be valuable to the true lovers of the drama.

84 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

and his strong caricatures of several eminent men of
his age will not be forgotten by the curious. Let me
add, that there is in his works many passages which
are of a general nature ; and his ' Prophecy of Famine '
is a poem of no ordinary merit. It is, indeed, falsely
injurious to Scotland ; but therefore may be allowed
a greater share of invention.

Bonnell Thornton had just published a burlesque
'Ode on St. Cecilia's Day,' adapted to the ancient
British music, viz., the salt-box, the Jew's harp, the
marrow-bones and cleaver, the hum-strum or hurdy-
g^rdy, etc. Johnson praised its humour, and seemed
much diverted with it. He repeated the following

' In strains more exalted the salt-box shall join,
And clattering and battering and clapping combine ;
With a rap and a tap while the hollow side sounds,
Up and down leaps the flap, and with rattling reboimds.' ^

I mentioned the periodical paper called The Con-
noisseur. He said it wanted matter. No doubt it had
not the deep thinking of Johnson's writings. But
surely it has just views of the surface of life, and in a
very sprightly manner. His opinion of The World
was not much higher than that of The Connoisseur.

Let me here apologise for the imperfect manner in
which I am obliged to exhibit Johnson's conversation

1 [In 1769 1 set for Smart and Newbery Thornton's burlesque ' Ode
on St. Cecilia's Day.' It was performed at Ranelagh in masks, to a
very crowded audience, as I was told ; for I then resided in Norfolk.
Beard sung the salt-box song, which was admirably accompanied on
that instrument by Brent, the fencing-master, and father of Miss Brent,
the celebrated singer ; Skeggs on the broom-stick, as bassoon ; and a
remarkable performer on the Jew's harp, — ' Buzzing twangs the iron
lyre.' Cleavers were cast in bell-metal for this entertainment. All the
performers of the old woman's Oratory, employed by Foote, were, I
believe, employed at Ranelagh on this occasion. — B.]

iET. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 85

at this period. In the early part of my acquaintance
with him, I was so rapt in admiration of his extras-
ordinary colloquial talents, and so little accustomed to
his peculiar mode of expression, that I found it ex-
tremely difficult to recoDect and record his conversa-
tion with its genuine vigour and vivacity. In progress
of time, when my mind was, as it were, strongly im-
pregnated with the Johnsonian tBther, I could with
much facility and exactness carry in my memory and
commit to paper the exuberant variety of his wisdom
and wit

At this time Miss Williams,^ as she was then called,
though she did not reside with him in the Temple
under his roof, but had lodgings in Bolt Court, Fleet
Street, had so much of his attention that he every
night drank tea with her before he went home, how-
ever late it might be, and she always sat up for him.
This, it may be fairly conjectured, was not alone a
proof of his regard for her, but of his own unwilling-
ness to go into solitude, before that unseasonable
hour at which he had habituated himself to expect
the oblivion of repose. Dr. Goldsmith, being a
privileged man, went with him this night, strutting
away, and calling to me with an air of superiority,
like that of an esoteric over an exoteric disciple of
a sage of antiquity, * I go to Miss Williams.' I con-
fess I then envied him this mighty privilege, of which
he seemed so proud ; but it was not long before I
obtained the same mark of distinction.

On Tuesday the 5th of July I again visited John-

1 [See vol. i. p. 247. This lady resided in Dr. Johnson's house in Gough
Square from about 1753 to 1758 ; and in that year, on his removing to
Gray's Inn, she went into lodgings. At a subsequent period she agaio
became an inmate with Johnson in Johnson's Court. — M.]

86 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

son. He told me he had looked into the poems of
a pretty voluminous writer, Mr. (now Dr.) John
Ogilvie, one of the Presbyterian ministers of Scot-
land, which had lately come out, but could find no
thinking in them. Boswell : ' Is there not imagina-
tion in them, sir ? ' Johnson : ' Why, sir, there is
in them what was imagination, but it is no more
imagination in him than sound is sound in the echo.
And his diction, too, is not his own. We have long
ago seen white-rohed innocence and flower-bespangled
meads.'

Talking of London, he observed, ' Sir, if you wish
to have a just notion of the magnitude of this city, you
must not be satisfied with seeing its great streets and
squares, but must survey the innumerable little lanes
and courts. It is not in the showy evolutions of
buildings, but in the multiplicity of human habita-
tions which are crowded together, that the wonderful
immensity of London consists.' I have often amused
myself with thinking how different a place London is
to different people. They whose narrow minds are
contracted to the consideration of some one particular
pursuit, view it only through that medium. A poli-
tician thinks of it merely as the seat of government in
its different departments ; a grazier, as a vast market
for cattle; a mercantile man, as a place where a
prodigious deal of business is done upon 'Change ;
a dramatic enthusiast, as the grand scene of theatrical
entertainments ; a man of pleasure, as an assemblage
of taverns, and the great emporium for ladies of easy
virtue. But the intellectual man is struck with it,
as comprehending the whole of human life in all its
variety, the contemplation of which is inexhaustible.

yET. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 87

On Wednesday, July 6, he was engaged to sup with
me at my lodgings in Downing Street, Westminster.
But on the preceding night my landlord having
behaved very rudely to me and some company who
were with me, I had resolved not to remain another
night in his house. I was exceedingly uneasy at the
awkward appearance I supposed I should make to
Johnson and the other gentlemen whom I had invited,
not being able to receive them at home, and being
obliged to order supper at the Mitre. I went to
Johnson in the morning, and talked of it as of a
serious distress. He laughed, and said, 'Consider,
sir, how insignificant this will appear a twelvemonth
hence.' Were this consideration to be applied to
most of the little vexatious incidents of life, by which
our quiet is too often disturbed, it would prevent
many painful sensations. I have tried it frequently
with good efi"ect. "There is nothing (continued he)
in this mighty misfortune ; nay, we shall be better at
the Mitre.' I told him that I had been at Sir John
Fielding's office, complaining of my landlord, and had
been informed, that though I had taken my lodgings
for a year, I might, upon proof of his bad behaviour,
quit them when I pleased, without being under an
obligation to pay rent for any longer time than while
I possessed them. The fertility of Johnson's mind
could show itself even upon so small a matter as this.
* Why, sir (said he), I suppose this must be the law,
since you have been told so in Bow Street. But, if
your landlord could hold you to your bargain, and the
lodging should be yours for a year, you may certainly
use them as you think fit. So, sir, you may quarter
two life-guardmen upon him ; or you may send the

88 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

greatest scoundrel you can find into your apartments ;
or you may say that you want to make some experi-
ments in natural philosophy, and may bum a large
quantity of assafoetida in his house. '

I had as my guests this evening at the Mitre tavern.
Dr. Johnson, Dr. Goldsmith, Mr. Thomas Davies,
Mr. Eccles, an Irish gentleman, for whose agree-
able company I was obliged to Mr. Davies, and the
Reverend Mr. John Ogilvie,^ who was desirous of
being in company with my illustrious friend, while I,
in my turn, was proud to have the honour of showing
one of my countrymen upon what easy terms Johnson
permitted me to live with him.

Goldsmith, as usual, endeavoured, with too much
eagerness, to shine, and disputed very warmly with
Johnson against the well-known maxim of the British
constitution, 'The King can do no wrong,' aflSrming,
that ' what was morally false could not be politically
true ; and as the King might, in the exercise of his
regal power, command and cause the doing of what
was wrong, it certainly might be said, in sense and in
reason, that he could do wrong.' Johnson: '^Sir, you
are to consider, that in our constitution, according to
its true principles, the King is the head ; he is supreme ;
he is above everything, and there is no power by which
he can be tried. Therefore it is, sir, that we hold
the King can do no wrong ; that whatever may happen
to be wrong in government may not be above our

1 The Northern bard mentioned p. 86. When 1 asked Dr. John-
son's permission to introduce him, he obligingly agreed ; adding, how-
ever, with a sly pleasantry, 'but be must give us none of his poetry.'
It is remarkable that Johnson and Churchill, however much they
differed in other points, agreed on this subject. See Churchiirs
Journey. It is, however, but justice to Dr. Ogilvie to observe that bis
JJay ofjudgnunt has no inconsiderable share of merit.

^T. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 89

reach by being ascribed to majesty. Redress is
always to be had against oppression, by punishing the
immediate agents. The King, though he should
command, cannot force a judge to condemn a man
unjustly; therefore it is the judge whom we prosecute
and punish. Political institutions are formed upon
the consideration of what will most frequently tend to
the good of the whole, although now and then excep-
tions may occur. Thus it is better in general that a
nation should have a supreme legislative power,
although it may at times be abused. And then, sir,
there is this consideration, that if the abuse he enormous,
Nature will rise up, and, claiming her original rights,
overturn a corrupt political system.' I mark this
animated sentence with peculiar pleasure, as a noble
instance of that truly dignified spirit of freedom which
ever glowed in his heart, though he was charged with
slavish tenets by superficial observers ; because he was
at all times indignant against that false patriotism,
that pretended love of freedom, that unruly restless-
ness, which is inconsistent with the stable authority of
any good government.

This generous sentiment, which he uttered with
great fervour, struck me exceedingly, and stirred my
blood to that pitch of fancied resistance, the possibility
of which I am glad to keep in mind, but to which I
trust I never shall be forced.

'Great abilities (said he) are not requisite for an
historian; for in historical composition all the greatest
powers of the human mind are quiescent. He has
facts ready to his hand ; so there is no exercise of
invention. Imagination is not required in any high
degree ; only about as much as is used in the lower

90 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

kinds of poetry. Some penetration^ accuracy, and
colouring will fit a man for the task, if he can give
the application which is necessary.'

'Bayle's Dictionary is a very useful work for those
to consult who love the biographical part of literature,
which is what I love most.'

Talking of the eminent writers in Queen Anne's
reign, he observed, ' I think Dr. Arbuthnot the first
man among them. He was the most universal genius,
being an excellent physician, a man of deep learning,
and a man of much humour. Mr. Addison was, to be
sure, a great man ; his learning was not profound ;
but his morality, his humour, and his elegance of
writing, set him very high. '

Mr. Ogilvie was unlucky enough to choose for the
topic of his conversation the praises of his native
country. He began with saying that there was very
rich land around Edinburgh. Goldsmith, who had
studied physic there, contradicted this, very untruly,
with a sneering laugh. Disconcerted a little by this,
Mr. Ogilvie then took new ground, where I suppose
he thought himself perfectly safe ; for he observed
that Scotland had a great many noble wild prospects.
Johnson : ' I believe, sir, you have a great many.
Norway, too, has noble wild prospects ; and Lapland
is remarkable for prodigious noble wild prospects.
But, sir, let me tell you, the noblest prospect which
a Scotchman ever sees is the high road that leads him
to England ! ' This unexpected and pointed sally
produced a roar of applause. After all, however,
those who admire the rude grandeur of Nature cannot
deny it to Caledonia.

On Saturday, July 9, I found Johnson surrounded

>ET. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 91

with a numerous levee, but have not preserved any
part of his conversation. On the 14th we had another
evening by ourselves at the Mitre. It happening to
be a very rainy night, I made some commonplace
observations on the relaxation of nerves and depression
of spirits which such weather occasioned ; ^ adding,
however, that it was good for the vegetable creation.
Johnson, who, as we have already seen, denied that
the temperature of the air had any influence on the
human frame, answered, with a smile of ridicule,
* Why, yes, sir, it is good for vegetables, and for the
animals who eat those vegetables, and for the animals
who eat those animals.' This observation of his aptly
enough introduced a good supper ; and I soon forgot
in Johnson's company the influence of a moist
atmosphere.

Feeling myself now quite at ease as his companion,
though I had all possible reverence for him, I expressed
a regret that I could not be so easy with my father,
though he was not much older than Johnson, and
certainly, however respectable, had not more learning
and greater abilities to depress me. I asked him the
reason of this. Johnson : ' Why, sir, I am a man of
the world. I live in the world, and I take, in some
degree, the colour of the world as it moves along.
Your father is a judge in a remote part of the island,
and all his notions are taken from the old world.
Besides, sir, there must always be a struggle between
a father and son, while one aims at power and the
other at independence. ' I said, I was afraid my father

1 [Johnson would suffer none of his friends to fill up chasms in
conversation with remarks on the weather : ' Let us not talk of the
weather.' — B.]

92 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

would force me to be a lawyer. Johnson : * Sir^ you
need not be afraid of his forcing you to be a laborious
practising lawyer ; that is not in his power. For, as
the proverb says, "One man may lead a horse to the
water, but twenty cannot make him drink." He may
be displeased that you are not what he wishes you to
be ; but that displeasure will not go far. If he insists
only on your having as much law as is necessary for a
man of property, and then endeavours to get you into
Parliament, he is quite in the right.'

He enlarged very convincingly upon the excellence
of rhyme over blank verse in English poetry. I men-
tioned to him that Dr. Adam Smith, in his lectures
upon composition, when I studied under him in the
College of Glasgow, had maintained the same opinion
strenuously, and I repeated some of his arguments.
Johnson : ' Sir, I was once in company with Smith,
and we did not take to each other ; but had I known
that he loved rhyme as much as you tell me he does^
I should have hugged him.'

Talking of those who denied the truth of Christianity,
he said, ' It is always easy to be on the negative side.
If a man were now to deny that there is salt upon the
table, you could not reduce him to an absurdity.
Come, let us try this a little further. I deny that
Canada is taken, and I can support my denial by
pretty good arguments. The French are a much more
numerous people than we ; and it is not likely that
they would allow us to take it. '^But the ministry
have assured us, in all the formality of the Gazette,
that it is taken. " Very true. But the ministry have
put us to an enormous expense by the war in Amei'ica,
and it is their interest to persuade us that we have got

;et. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 93

something for our money. "But the fact is con-
firmed by thousands of men who were at the taking
of it" Ay, but these men have still more interest
in deceiving us. They don't want that you should
think the French have beat them, but that they
have beat the French. Now suppose you should go
over and find that it is really taken, that would
only satisfy yourself; for when you come home we
will not believe you. We will say you have been
bribed. Yet, sir, notwithstanding all these plausible
objections, we have no doubt that Canada is really
ours. Such is the weight of common testimony.
How much stronger are the evidences of the Christian
religion .'' '

' Idleness is a disease which must be combated ; but
I would not advise a rigid adherence to a particular
plan of study. I myself have never persisted in any
plan for two days together. A man ought to read
just as inclination leads him ; for what he reads as a
task will do him little good. A young man should
read five hours in a day, and so may acquire a great
deal of knowledge.'

To a man of vigorous intellect and ardent curiosity
like his own, reading without a regular plan may be
beneficial ; though even such a man must submit to
it, if he would attain a full understanding of any of
the sciences.

To such a degree of unrestrained frankness had he
now accustomed me, that in the course of this evening
I talked of the numerous reflections which had been
thrown out against him on account of his having
accepted a pension from his present Majesty. 'Why,
sir (said he, with a hearty laugh), it is a mighty foolish

94 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

noise that they make. ^ I have accepted of a pension
as a reward which has been thought due to my literary
merit; and now that I have this pension, I am the
same man in every respect that I have ever been ; I
retain the same principles. It is true that I cannot
now curse (smUing) the House of Hanover ; nor would
it be decent for me to drink King James's health in
the wine that King George gives me money to pay for.
But, sir, I think that the pleasure of cursing the
House of Hanover, and drinking King James's health,
are amply overbalanced by £300 a year.'

There was here, most certainly, an affectation of
more Jacobitism than he really had ; and indeed an
intention of admitting, for the moment, in a much
greater extent than it really existed, the charge of
disaffection imputed to him by the world, merely for
the purpose of showing how dexterously he could
repel an attack, even though he were placed in the
most disadvantageous position ; for I have heard him
declare, that if holding up his right hand would have
secured victory at Culloden to Prince Charles's army,
he was not sure he would have held it up ; so little
confidence had he in the right claimed by the House
of Stuart, and so fearful was he of the consequences
of another revolution on the throne of Great Britain ;
and Mr. Topham Beauclerk assured me he had heard
him say this before he had his pension. At another
time he said to Mr. Langton, 'Nothing has ever
offered that has made it worth my while to consider
the question fully.' He, however, also said to the

1 When I mentioned the same idle clamour to him several years
afterwards, he said, with a smile, ' 1 wish my pension were twice as
large, that they might make twice as much noise.'

^T. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 96

same gentleman, talking of King James the Second,
' It was become impossible for him to reign any longer
in this country.' He no doubt had an early attach-
ment to the House of Stuart ; but his zeal had cooled
as his reason strengthened. Indeed, I heard him once
say, 'that after the death of a violent Whig, with
whom he used to contend with great eagerness, he
felt his Toryism much abated.'^ I suppose he meant
Mr. Walmsley.

Yet there is no doubt that at earlier periods he
was wont often to exercise both his pleasantry and
ingenuity in talking Jacobitism. My much respected
friend. Dr. Douglas, now Bishop of Salisbury, has
favoured me with the following admirable instance
from his Lordship's own recollection. One day when
dining at old Mr. Langton's, where Miss Roberts, his
niece, was one of the company, Johnson, with his
usual complacent attention to the fair sex, took her
by the hand and said, 'My dear, I hope you are a
Jacobite.' Old Mr. Langton, who, though a high and
steady Tory, was attached to the present Royal Family,
seemed ofiFended, and asked Johnson, with great
warmth, what he could mean by putting such a
question to his niece ? ' Why, sir (said Johnson), I
meant no offence to your niece ; I meant her a great
compliment. A Jacobite, sir, believes in the divine
right of kings. He that believes in the divine right
of kings believes in a Divinity. A Jacobite believes
in the divine right of bishops. He that believes in
the divine right of bishops believes in the divine
authority of the Christian religion. Therefore, Sir,
a Jacobite is neither an Atheist nor a Deist. That

1 Journal pf a Tour to the Hebrides, 3d edit., p. 420.

96 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

cannot be said of a Whig ; for Whiggism is a negation
of all principle. ' ^

He advised me, when abroad, to be as much as I
could with the Professors in the Universities, and with
the clergy ; for from their conversation I might expect
the best accounts of everj-thing in whatever country I
should be, with the additional advantage of keeping
my learning alive.

It will be observed, that when giving me advice as
to my travels. Dr. Johnson did not dwell upon cities,
and palaces, and pictures, and shows, and Arcadian
scenes. He was of Lord Essex's opinion, who advises
his kinsman Roger Earl of Rutland, ' rather to go a
hundred miles to speak with one wise man than five
miles to see a fair town.' ^

I described to him an impudent fellow from Scot-
land, who affected to be a savage, and railed at all
established systems. Johnson : ' There is nothing
surprising in this, sir. He wants to make himself
conspicuous. He would tumble in a hog-sty, as long
as you looked at him and called to him to come
out. But let him alone, never mind him, and he'll
soon give it over. '

I added, that the same person maintained that there
was no distinction between virtue and vice. Johnson :
' Why, sir, if the fellow does not think as he speaks,
he is lying ; and I see not what honour he can propose

1 He used to tell, with great humour, from my relation to him, the
following little story of my early years, which was literally true :
' BoswelT, in the year 1745, was a fine boy, wore a white cockade, and
prayed for King James, till one of his uncles (General Cochran) gave
him a shilling on condition that he would pray for King George, which
he accordingly did. So you see (says Boswell) that IVhi^s 0/ all ages
are tfuide the same way.'

2 Letter to Rutland on Travel, i6mo, 1596.

MT.S4] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 97

to himself from having the character of a liar. But if
he does really think that there is no distinction between
virtue and vice, why, sir, when he leaves our houses
let us count our spoons. '

Sir David Dalrymple, now one of the Judges of
Scotland by the title of Lord Hailes, had contributed
much to increase my high opinion of Johnson, on
account of his writings, long before I attained to a
personal acquaintance with him ; I, in return, had
informed Johnson of Sir David's eminent character
for learning and religion ; and Johnson was so much
pleased that at one of our evening meetings he gave
him for his toast. I at this time kept up a very
frequent correspondence with Sir David ; and I read
to Dr. Johnson to-night the following passage from
the letter which I had last received from him :

' It gives me pleasure to think that you have obtained the
friendship of Mr. Samuel Johnson. He is one of the best
moral writers which England has produced. At the same
time, I envy you the free and undisguised converse with such
a man. May I beg you to present my best respects to him,
and to assure him of the veneration which I entertain for the
author of the Rambler and of Rasselas ? Let me recommend
this last work to you; with the Rambler you certainly are
acquainted. In Rasselas you will see a tender-hearted
operator, who probes the wound only to heal it. Swift, on
the contrary, mangles hvunan nature. He cuts and slashes,
as if he took pleasure in the operation, like the tyrant who
said, Itaferi, ut se sentiat emori.'

Johnson seemed to be much gratified by this just and
well-turned compliment.

He recommended to me to keep a journal of my life,
full and unreserved. He said it would be a very good
exercise, and would yield me great satisfaction when

VOL. II. O

98 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

the particulars were faded from my remembrance. I
was uncommonly fortunate in having had a previous
coincidence of opinion with him upon this subject, for
I had kept such a journal for some time ; and it was
no small pleasure to me to have this to teU him, and
to receive his approbation. He counselled me to keep
it private, and said I might surely have a friend who
would burn it in case of my death. From this habit I
have been enabled to give the world so many anecdotes
which would otherwise have been lost to posterity. I
mentioned that I was afraid I put into my journal too
many little incidents. Johnson : ' There is nothing,
sir, too little for so little a creature as man. It is by
studying little things that we attain the great art of
having as little misery and as much happiness as
possible. '

Next morning Mr. Dempster happened to call on
me, and was so much struck even with the imperfect
account which I gave him of Dr. Johnson's conversa-
tion, that, to his honour be it recorded, when I com-
plained that drinking port and sitting up late with him
affected my nerves for some time after, he said, ' One
had better be palsied at eighteen than not keep com-
pany with such a man.'

On Tuesday, July 18, I found tall Sir Thomas
Robinson sitting with Johnson. Sir Thomas said that
the King of Prussia valued himself upon three things ;
— upon being a hero, a musician, and an author.
Johnson : Pretty well, sir, for one man. As to his
being an author, I have not looked at his poetry ; but
his prose is poor stuff. He writes just as you would
suppose Voltaire's footboy to do, who has been his
amanuensis. He has such parts as the valet might

^T. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 99

have, and about as much of the colouring of the style
as might be got by transcribing his works.' When I
was at Ferney I repeated this to Voltaire, in order to
reconcile him somewhat to Johnson, whom he, in
aflFecting the English mode of expression, had pre-
viously characterised as ' a superstitious dog ' ; but
after hearing such a criticism on Frederick the Great,
with whom he was then on bad terms, he exclaimed,
' An honest fellow ! '

But I think the criticism much, too severe ; for the
Memoirs of the House of Branderiburgh are written as
well as many works of that kind. His poetry, for the
style of which he himself makes a frank apology,
' Jargonnant un Francois harbare,' though fraught with
pernicious ravings of infidelity, has, in many places,
great animation, and in some a pathetic tenderness.

Upon this contemptuous animadversion on the King
of Prussia, I observed to Johnson, 'It would seem
then, sir, that much less parts are necessary to make
a king than to make an author; for the King of
Prussia is confessedly the greatest king now in
Europe, yet you think he makes a very poor figure as
an author.'

Mr. Levet this day showed me Dr. Johnson's library,
which was contained in two garrets over his chambers,
where Lintot, son of the celebrated bookseller of that
name, had formerly his warehouse. I found a number
of good books, but very dusty and in great confusion.
The floor was strewed with manuscript leaves, in John-
son's own handwriting, which I beheld with a degree
of veneration, supposing they perhaps might contain
portions of the Rambler or of Rasselas. I observed an
apparatus for chemical experiments, of which Johnson

100 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

was all his life very fond. The place seemed to be
very favourable for retirement and meditation. John-
son told me that he went up thither without mention-
ing it to his servant, when he wanted to study secure
from interruption ; for he would not allow his servant
to say he was not at home when he really was. 'A
servant's strict regard for truth (said he) must be
weakened by such a practice. A philosopher may
know that it is merely a form of denial ; but few
servants are sucti nice distinguishers. If I accustom a
servant to tell a lie for me, have I not reason to appre-
hend that he will tell many lies for himself} ' I am,
however, satisfied that every servant, of any degree of
intelligence, understands saying his master is not at
home, not at all as the affirmation of a fact, but as
customary words, intimating that his master wishes
not to be seen ; so that there can be no bad effect
from it.

Mr. Temple, now vicar of St. Gluvias, Cornwall,
who had been my intimate friend for many years, had
at this time chambers in Farrar's Buildings, at the
bottom of Inner Temple Lane, which he kindly lent
me upon quitting my lodgings, he being to return
to Trinity Hall, Cambridge. I found them parti-
cularly convenient for me, as they were so near Dr.
Johnson's.

On Wednesday, July 20, Dr. Johnson, Mr.
Dempster, and my uncle Dr. Boswell, who happened
to be now in London, supped with me at these
chambers. Johnson : * Pity is not natural to man.
Children are always cruel. Savages are always cruel.
Pity is acquired and improved by the cultivation of
reason. We may have uneasy sensations from seeing

^T. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 101

a creature in distress, without pity ; for we have not
pity unless we wish to relieve them. When I am on
my way to dine with a friend, and finding it late, have
bid the coachman make haste, if I happen to attend
when he whips his horses, I may feel unpleasantly
that the animals are put to pain, but I do not wish
him to desist. No, sir, I wish him to drive on.'

Mr. Alexander Donaldson, bookseller, of Edinburgh,
had for some time opened a shop in London, and sold
his cheap editions of the most popular English books,
in defiance of the supposed common-law right of
Literary Property. Johnson, though he concurred ia
the opinion which was afterwards sanctioned by a
judgment of the House of Lords, that there was no
such right, was at this time very angry that the book-
sellers of London, for whom he uniformly professed
much regard, should suffer from an invasion of what
they had ever considered to be secure, and he was
loud and violent against Mr. Donaldson. *He is a
fellow who takes advantage of the law to injure his
brethren ; for notwithstanding that the statute secures
only fourteen years of exclusive right, it has always
been understood by the trade that he who buys the
copyright of a book from the author obtains a per-
petual property ; and upon that belief numberless
bargains are made to transfer that property after the
expiration of the statutory term. Now Donaldson, I
say, takes advantage here of people who have really
an equitable title from usage ; and if we consider how
few of the books, of which they buy the property,
succeed so well as to bring profit, we should be of
opinion that the term of fourteen years is too short ;
it should be sixty years. ' Dempster : ' Donaldson,

102 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

sir, is anxious for the encouragement of literature.
He reduces the price of books, so that poor students
may buy them. ' Johnson (laughing) : ' Well, sir,
allowing that to be his motive, he is no better than
Robin Hood, who robbed the rich in order to give to
the poor. ' ^

It is remarkable, that when the great question con-
cerning literary property came to be ultimately tried
before the supreme tribunal of this country, in con-
sequence of the very spirited exertions of Mr.
Donaldson,^ Dr. Johnson was zealous against a per-
petuity ; but he thought that the term of exclusive
right of authors should be considerably enlarged. He
was then for granting a hundred years.

The conversation now turned upon Mr. David
Hume's style. Johnson : ' Why, sir, his style is not
English ; the structure of his sentences is French.
Now the French structure and the English structure,
may, in the nature of things, be equally good. But if
you allow that the English language is established,
he is wrong. My name might originally have been
Nicholson, as well as Johnson ; but were you to call
me Nicholson now, you would call me very absurdly.'

Rousseau's treatise on the inequality of mankind
was at this time a fashionable topic. It gave rise to
an observation by Mr. Dempster, that the advantages
of fortune and rank were nothing to a wise man, who
ought to value only merit. Johnson : ' If man were
a savage, living in the woods by himself, this might be

1 [Donaldson's Hospital in Edinburgh represents the fortune of this
larcenous boolcsellex. — A. B.]

- [In Donaldson v. Becket, in 1774, the House of Lords decided,
after hearing the Judges, that the Statute of Queen Anne destroyed
perpetual copjnright, and substituted a term of years. — A. B.]

/ET. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 103

true ; but in civilised society we all depend upon each
other, and our happiness is very much owing to the
good opinion of mankind. Now, sir, in civilised
society, external advantages make us more respected.
A man with a good coat upon his back meets with a
better reception than he who has a bad one. Sir, you
may analyse this, and say what is there in it ? But
that will avail you nothing, for it is a part of a general
system. Pound St. Paul's church into atoms, and
consider any single atom ; it is, to be sure, good for
nothing : but, put all these atoms together, and you
have St. Paul's church. So it is with human felicity,
which is made up of many ingredients, each of which
may be shown to be very insignificant. In civilised
society personal merit will not serve you so much as
money will. Sir, you may make the experiment.
Go into the street and give one man a lecture on
morality, and another a shilling, and see which will
respect you most. If you wish only to support nature.
Sir William Petty fixes your allowance at £3 a year ;
but as times are much altered, let us call it £6. This
sum will fill your belly, shelter you from the weather,
and even get you a strong lasting coat, supposing it to
be made of good bull's hide. Now, sir, all beyond
this is artificial, and is desired in order to obtain a
greater degree of respect from our fellow-creatures.
And, sir, if £600 a year procure a man more con-
sequence, and, of course, more happiness, than £6 a
year, the same proportion will hold as to £6000, and
so on, as far as opulence can be carried. Perhaps he
who has a large fortune may not be so happy as he
who has a small one ; but that must proceed from
other causes than from his having the large fortune ;

104 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

for, cceteris paribus, he who is rich in a civilised society
must be happier than he who is poor ; as riches, if
properly used (and it is a man's own fault if they are
not), must be productive of the highest advantages.
Money, to be sure, of itself, is of no use ; for its only
use is to part with it. Rousseau, and all those who
deal in paradoxes, are led away by a childish desire of
novelty. ^ When I was a boy I used always to choose
the wrong side of a debate, because most ingenious
things, that is to say, most new things, could be said
upon it. Sir, there is nothing for which you may not
muster up more plausible arguments than those
which are urged against wealth and other external
advantages. Why, now, there is stealing: why should
it be thought a crime ? When we consider by what
unjust methods property has been often acquired,
and that what was unjustly got it must be unjust to
keep, where is the harm in one man's taking the
property of another from him ? Besides, sir, when
we consider the bad use that many people make of
their property, and how much better use the thief
may make of it, it may be defended as a very allow-
able practice. Yet, sir, the experience of mankind
has discovered stealing to be so very bad a thing that
they make no scruple to hang a man for it. When
I was running about this town a very poor fellow, I
was a great arguer for the advantages of poverty ; but
I was, at the same time, very sorry to be poor. Sir,
all the arguments which are brought to represent

1 [Johnson told Mr. Burney that Goldsmith said, when he first began
to write, he determined to commit to paper nothing but what was ttev> ;
but he afterwards found that what was new was generally false, and
from that time was no longer solicitous about novelty. — B.]

/ET. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 105

poverty as no evil, show it to be evidently a great
evil. You never find people labouring to convince
you that you may live very happily upon a plentiful
fortune. So you hear people talking how miserable
a king must be ; and yet they all wish to be in his
place. '

It was suggested that kings must be unhappy,
because they are deprived of the greatest of all
satisfactions, easy and unreserved society. Johnson :
'That is an ill-founded notion. Being a king does
not exclude a man from such society. Great kings
have always been social. The King of Prussia, the
only great king at present, is very social. Charles
the Second, the last King of England who was a man
of parts, was social ; and our Henrys and Edwards
were all social.'

Mr. Dempster having endeavoured to maintain that
intrinsic merit ought to make the only distinction
amongst mankind : — Johnson : ' Why, sir, mankind
have found that this cannot be. How shall we deter-
mine the proportion of intrinsic merit ? Were that to
be the only distinction amongst mankind, we should
soon quarrel about the degrees of it. Were all dis-
tinctions abolished, the strongest would not long
acquiesce, but would endeavour to obtain a superiority
by their bodily strength. But, sir, as subordination
is very necessary for society, and contentions for
superiority very dangerous, mankind, that is to say,
all civilised nations, have settled it upon a plain in-
variable principle. A man is born to hereditary rank ;
or his being appointed to certain offices gives him
a certain rank. Subordination tends greatly to
human happiness. Were we all upon an equality.

106 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

we should have no other enjoyment than mere animal
pleasures.'

I said I considered distinction or rank to be of so
much importance in civilised society, that if I were
asked on the same day to dine with the first duke in
England, and with the first man in Britain for genius,
I should hesitate which to prefer. Johnson : ' To be
sure, sir, if you were to dine only once, and it were
never to be known where you dined, you would choose
rather to dine with the first man of genius ; but to
gain most respect you should dine with the first duke
in England. For nine people in ten that you meet
with would have a higher opinion of you for having
dined with a duke ; and the great genius himself
would receive you better, because you had been with
the great duke. '

He took care to guard himself against any possible
suspicion that his settled principles of reverence for
rank and respect for wealth were at all owing to mean
or interested motives ; for he asserted his own inde-
pendence as a literary man. ' No man (said he) who
ever lived by literature has lived more independently
than I have done.' He said he had taken longer
tiftie than he needed to have done in composing his
Dictionary. He received our compliments upon that
great work with complacency, and told us that the
Academia della Crusca could scarcely believe that it
was done by one man.

Next morning I found him alone, and have preserved
the following fragments of his conversation. Of a
gentleman who was mentioned, he said, * I have not
met with any man for a long time who has given me
such general displeasure. He is totally unfixed in his

VET. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 107

principles, and wants to puzzle other people.' I said
his principles had been poisoned by a noted infidel
writer, but that he was, nevertheless, a benevolent
good man. Johnson : ' We can have no dependence
upon that instinctive, that constitutional goodness
which is not founded upon principle. I grant you
that such a man may be a very amiable member of
society. I can conceive him placed in such a situa-
tion that he is not much tempted to deviate from what
is right ; and as every man prefers virtue, when there
is not some strong incitement to transgress its pre-
cepts, I can conceive him doing nothing wrong. But
if such a man stood in need of money I should not
like to trust him ; and I should certainly not trust
him with young ladies, for there there is always temp-
tation. Hume, and other sceptical innovators, are
vain men, and will gratify themselves at any expense.
Truth will not afi^ord sufficient food to their vanity ;
so they have betaken themselves to error. Truth, sir,
is a cow which will yield such people no raoxe milk,
and so they are gone to milk the bull. If I could
have allowed myself to gratify my vanity at the ex-
pense of truth, what fame might I have acquired !
Everything which Hume has advanced against Chris-
tianity had passed through my mind long before he
wrote. Always remember this, that after a system is
well settled upon positive evidence, a iew partial
objections ought not to shake it. The human mind
is so limited that it cannot take in all the parts of a
subject, so that there may be objections raised against
anything. There are objections against a plenum,
and objections against a vacuum ; yet one of them
must certainly be true. '

108 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

I mentioned Hume's argument against the belief of
miracles, that it is more probable that the witnesses to
the truth of them are mistaken, or speak falsely, than
that the miracles should be true. Johnson : * Why,
sir, the great difficulty of proving miracles should make
us very cautious in believing them. But let us con-
sider : although God has made Nature to operate by
certain fixed laws, yet it is not unreasonable to think
that He may suspend those laws in order to establish
a system highly advantageous to mankind. Now the
Christian religion is a most beneficial system, as it
gives us light and certainty where we were before in
darkness and doubt. The miracles which prove it are
attested by men who had no interest in deceiving us ;
but who, on the contrary, were told that they should
suffer persecution, and did actually lay down their
lives in confirmation of the truth of the facts which
they asserted. Indeed, for some centuries the heathens
did not pretend to deny the miracles ; but said they
were performed by the aid of evil spirits. This is a
circumstance of great weight. Then, sir, when we take
the proofs derived from the prophecies which have
been so exactly fulfilled, we have most satisfactory
evidence. Supposing a miracle possible, as to which
in my opinion there can be no doubt, we have as
strong evidence for the miracles in support of Chris-
tianity as the nature of the thing admits.'

At night Mr. Johnson and I supped in a private
room at the Turk's Head coffee-house, in the Strand.
' I encourage this house (said he), for the mistress of
it is a good civil woman, and has not much business.'

' Sir, I love the acquaintance of young people ;
because, in the first place, I don't like to think myself

^T. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 109

growing' old. In the next place, young acquaintances
must last longest, if they do last ; and then, sir, young
men have more virtue than old men ; they have more
generous sentiments in every respect. I love the
young dogs of this age, they have more wit and
humour and knowledge of life than we had ; but then
the dogs are not so good scholars. Sir, in my early
years I read very hard. It is a sad reflection, but a
true one, that I knew almost as much at eighteen as I
do now. My Judgment, to be sure, was not so good ;
but I had all the facts. I remember very well, when
I was at Oxford, an old gentleman said to me, '' Young
man, ply your book diligently now, and acquire a
stock of knowledge ; for when years come unto you,
you will find that poring upon books will be but aa
irksome task." '

This account of his reading, given by himself in
plain words, sufficiently confirms what I have already
advanced upon the disputed question as to his appli-
cation. It reconciles any seeming inconsistency in
his way of talking upon it at difi"erent times ; and
shows that idleness and reading hard were with him
relative terms, the import of which, as used by him,
must be gathered from a comparison with what scholars
of difi'erent degrees of ardour and assiduity have been
known to do. And let it be remembered that he was
now talking spontaneously, and expressing his genuine
sentiments ; whereas at other times he might be in-
duced from his spirit of contradiction, or more pro-
perly from his love of argumentative contest, to speak
lightly of his own application to study. It is pleasing
to consider that the old gentleman's gloomy prophecy
as to the irksomeness of books to men of an advanced

no LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

age, which is too often fulfilled, was so far from being
verified in Johnson that his ardour for literature never
failed, and his last writings had more ease and vivacity
than any of his earlier productions.

He mentioned to me now, for the first time, that he
had been distressed by melancholy, and for that reason
had been obliged to fly from study and meditation to
the dissipating variety of life. Against melancholy he
recommended constant occupation of mind, a great
deal of exercise, moderation in eating and drinking,
and especially to shun drinking at night. He said
melancholy people were apt to fly to intemperance for
relief, but that it sunk them much deeper in misery.
He observed that labouring men, who work hard and
live sparingly, are seldom or never troubled with low
spirits.

He again insisted on the duty of maintaining sub-
ordination of rank. ' Sir, I would no more deprive a
nobleman of his respect than of his money. I con-
sider myself as acting a part in the great system of
society, and I do to others as I would have them do to
me. I would behave to a nobleman as I should expect
he would behave to me, were I a nobleman and he
Sam. Johnson. Sir, there is one Mrs. Macaulay ^ in
this town, a great republican. One day when I was
at her house I put on a very grave countenance, and
said to her, " Madam, I am now become a convert to
your way of thinking. I am convinced that all man-
kind are upon an equal footing ; and to give you an
unquestionable proof, madam, that I am in earnest,

1 This one Mrs. Macaulay was the same personage who afterwards
made herself so much known as 'the celebrated female historian.' —
BoswELL. [And whose History of England is well worth reading. —
A.B.]

^T. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 111

here is a very sensible^ civil, well-behaved fellow-
citizen, your footman ; I desire that he may be
allowed to sit down and dine with us." I thus, sir,
showed her the absurdity of the levelling doctrine.
She has never liked me since. Sir, your levellers
wish to level down as far as themselves ; but they
cannot bear levelling up to themselves. They would
all have some people under them ; why not then have
some people above them .'' ' I mentioned a certain
author who disgusted me by his forwardness, and by
showing no deference to noblemen into whose com-
pany he was admitted. Johnson : ' Suppose a shoe-
maker should claim an equality with him, as he does
with a lord : how he would stare ! " Why, sir, do
you stare ? (says the shoemaker) ; I do great service
to society. 'Tis true, I am paid for doing it ; but so
are you, sir : and I am sorry to say it, better paid than
I am, for doing something not so necessary. For man-
kind could do better without your books than without
my shoes." Thus, sir, there would be a perpetual
struggle for precedence, were there no fixed invariable
rules for the distinction of rank, which creates no
jealousy, as it is allowed to be accidental.'

He said Dr. Joseph Warton was a very agreeable
man, and his Essay on the Genius and Writings of
Pope a very pleasing book. I wondered that he de-
layed so long to give us the continuation of it.
Johnson : ' Why, sir, I suppose he finds himself a
little disappointed in not having been able to persuade
the world to be of his opinion as to Pope. '

We have now been favoured with the concluding
volume, in which, to use a parliamentary expression,
he has explained, so as not to appear quite so adverse

112 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

to the opinion of the world^ concerning Pope, as was
at first thought ; and we must all agree that his work
is a most valuable accession to English literature.

A writer of deserved eminence being mentioned,
Johnson said, ' Why, sir, he is a man of good parts,
but, being originally poor, he has got a love of mean
company and low jocularity ; a very bad thing, sir.
To laugh is good, as to talk is good. But you ought
no more to think it enough if you laugh, than you are
to think it enough if you talk. You may laugh in as
many ways as you talk ; and surely every way of
talking that is practised cannot be esteemed.'

I spoke of a Sir James Macdonald as a young man
of most distinguished merit, who united the highest
reputation at Eton and Oxford with the patriarchal
spirit of a great Highland chieftain. I mentioned
that Sir James had said to me that he«had never seen
Mr. Johnson, but he had a great respect for him,
though at the same time it was mixed with some
degree of terror. Johnson : ' Sir, if he were to be
acquainted with me it might lessen both.'

The mention of this gentleman led us to talk of the
Western Islands of Scotland, to visit which he expressed
a wish that then appeared to me a very romantic fancy,
which I little thought would be afterward realised. He
told me that his father had put Martin's account of
those islands into his hands when he was very young,
and that he was highly pleased with it ; that he was
particularly struck with the St. Kilda man's notion
that the High Church of Glasgow had been hollowed
out of a rock ; a circumstance to which old Mr.
Johnson had directed his attention. He said he would
go to the Hebrides with me when I returned fi-om my

;et. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 113

travels, unless some very good companion should offer
when I was absent, which he did not think probable :
adding, 'There are few people to whom I take so much
to as to you.' And when I talked of my leaving Eng-
land, he said, with a very affectionate air, ' My dear
Boswell, I should be very unhappy at parting, did I
think we were not to meet again.' I cannot too often
remind my readers, that although such instances of
his kindness are doubtless very flattering to me, yet I
hope my recording them will be ascribed to a better
motive than to vanity ; for they afford unquestionable
evidence of his tenderness and complacency, which
some, while they were forced to acknowledge his great
powers, have been so strenuous to deny.

He maintained that a boy at school was the happiest
of human beings. I supported a different opinion,
from which I have never yet varied, that a man is
happier : and I enlarged upon the anxiety and suffer-
ings which are endured at school. Johnson: 'Ah!
sir, a boy's being flogged is not so severe as a man's
having the hiss of the world against him. Men have
a solicitude about fame ; and the greater share they
have of it the more afraid they are of losing it'; I
silently asked myself, 'Is it possible that the great
Samuel Johnson really entertains any such apprehen-
sion, and is not confident that his exalted fame is
established upon a foundation never to be shaken ? '

He this evening drank a bumper to Sir David
Dalrymple, ' as a man of worth, a scholar, and a wit '
' I have (said he) never heard of him, except from
you ; but let him know my opinion of him : for as he
does not show himself much in the world, he should
have the praise of the itw who hear of him.'

VOL. It. H

114 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

On Tuesday, July 26, I found Mr. Johnson alone.
It was a very wet day, and I again complained of the
disagreeable eflfects of such weather. Johnson : ' Sir,
this is all imagination, which physicians encourage ;
for man lives in air, as a fish lives in water ; so that if
the atmosphere press heavy from above, there is an
equal resistance from below. To be sure, bad weather
is hard upon people who are obliged to be abroad ; and
men cannot labour so well in the open air in bad
weather as in good : but, sir, a smith or a tailor,
whose work is within-doors, will surely do as much
in rainy weather as in fair. Some very delicate frames,
indeed, may be aflFected by wet weather ; but not
common constitutions.'

We talked of the education of children ; and I
asked him what he thought was best to teach them
first. Johnson : ' Sir, it is no matter what you teach
them first, any more than what leg you shall put into
your breeches first. Sir, you may stand disputing
which is best to put in first, but in the meantime
your breech is bare. Sir, while you are considering
which of two things you should teach your child first,
another boy has learnt them both. '

On Thursday, July 28, we again supped in private
at the Turk's Head cofi"ee-house. Johnson : * Swift
has a higher reputation than he deserves. His excel-
lence is strong sense ; for his humour, though very
well, is not remarkably good. I doubt whether the
Tale of a Tub be his, for he never owned it, and it is
much above his usual manner. ^

' Thomson, I think, has as much of the poet about

1 [An extraordinary bit of prejudice. There can be no doubt about
Swift's authorship. See Scott's Life of Swift. — A. B.]

iET. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 115

him as most writers. Everything appeared to him
through the medium of his favourite pursuit. He
could not have viewed those two candles burning but
with a poetical eye. '

' Has not ^ a great deal of wit^ sir ? ' Johnson :

'I do not think so, sir. He is indeed continually
attempting wit, but he fails. And I have no more
pleasure in hearing a man attempting wit and failing,
than in seeing a man trying to leap over a ditch and
tumbling into it.'

He laughed heartily when I mentioned to him a
saying of his concerning Mr. Thomas Sheridan, which
Foote took a wicked pleasure to circulate. ' Why, sir.
Sherry is dull, naturally dull ; but it must have taken
him a great deal of pains to become what we now see
him. Such an excess of stupidity, sir, is not in
Nature.' 'So (said he), I allowed him all his own
merit.'

He now added, ' Sheridan cannot bear me. I bring
his declamation to a point. I ask him a plain question,
*' What do you mean to teach .'' " Besides, sir, what
influence can Mr. Sheridan have upon the language of
this great country by his narrow exertions ? Sir, it is
burning a farthing candle at Dover to show light at
Calais.'

Talking of a young man who was uneasy from
thinking that he was very deficient in learning and
knowledge, he said, 'A man has no reason to com-
plain who holds a middle place, and has many below
him ; and perhaps he has not six of his years above

1 [This blank may be filled with the name of Burlce, to whom John-
son very properly denied both wit and humour. Burke's strong points
were imagination and the illuminative faculty. — A. B.]

116 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

him ; — perhaps not one. Though he may not know
anything perfectly, the general mass of knowledge
that he has acquired is considerable. Time will do
for him all that is wanting. '

The conversation then took a philosophical turn.
Johnson : ' Human experience, which is constantly
contradicting theory, is the great test of truth. A
system built upon the discoveries of a great many
minds is always of more strength than what is pro-
duced by the mere workings of any one mind, which,
of itself, can do little. There is not so poor a book in
the world that would not be a prodigious effort were
it wrought out entirely by a single mind, without the
aid of prior investigators. The French writers are
superficial, because they are not scholars, and so
proceed upon the mere power of their own minds ;
and we see how very little power they have.'

' As to the Christian religion, sir, besides the strong
evidence which we have for it, there is a balance in its
favour from the number of great men who have been
convinced of its truth, after a serious consideration of
the question. Grotius was an acute man, a lawyer, a
man accustomed to examine evidence, and he was con-
vinced. Grotius was not a recluse, but a man of the
world, who certainly had no bias to the side of religion.
Sir Isaac Newton set out an infidel, and came to be a
very firm believer.'

He this evening again recommended to me to per-
ambulate Spain.'^ I said it would amuse him to get a

1 I fully intended to have followed advice of such weight ; but having
stayed much longer both in Germany and Italy than I proposed to do,
and having also visited Corsica, I found that I had exceeded the time
allowed me by my father, and hastened to France in my way home
wards.

iET. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 117

letter from me dated at Salamanca. Johnson : ' I love
the University of Salamanca ; for when the Spaniards
were in doubt as to the lawfulness of their conquering
America, the University of Salamanca gave it as their
opinion that it was not lawful.' He spoke this with
great emotion, and with that generous warmth which
dictated the lines in his 'London,' against Spanish
encroachment.

I expressed my opinion of my friend Derrick as but
a poor writer. Johnson : 'To be sure, sir, he is :
but you are to consider that his being a literary mau
has got for him all that he has. It has made him
King of Bath. Sir, he has nothing to say for himself
but that he is a writer. Had he not been a writer,
he must have been sweeping the crossings in the
streets, and asking halfpence from everybody that
passed.'

In justice, however, to the memory of Mr. Derrick,
who was my first tutor in the ways of London, and
showed me the town in all its variety of departments,
both literary and sportive, the particulars of which Dr.
Johnson advised me to put in writing, it is proper to
mention what Johnson, at a subsequent period, said
of him both as a writer and an editor : ' Sir, I have
often said that if Derrick's letters had been written
by one of a more established name, they would have
been thought very pretty letters. ' ^ And, * I sent
Derrick to Dryden's relations to gather materials for
his life ; and I believe he got all that I myself should
have got.' 2

Poor Derrick ! I remember him with kindness.

1 Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, 2nd edition, p. 104.

2 Ibid. p. 142.

118 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

Yet I cannot withhold from my readers a pleasant
humorous sally which could not have hurt him had
he been alive, and now is perfectly harmless. In his
collection of poems there is one upon entering the
harbour of Dublin, his native city, after a long ab-
sence. It begins thus :

' Eblana ! much loved city, hail !
Where first I saw the light of day.'

And after a solemn reflection on his being ' num-
bered with forgotten dead,' there is the following
stanza:

' Unless my lines protract my fame.

And those who chance to read them, cry,
I knew him ! Derrick was his name.
In yonder tomb his ashes lie,' —

which was thus happily parodied by Mr. John Home,
to whom we owe the beautiful and pathetic tragedy of
Douglap:

' Unless my deeds protract my fame.

And he who passes sadly sings,
I knew him ! Derrick was his name,
On yonder tree his carcass swings !'

I doubt much whether the amiable and ingenious
author of these burlesque lines will recollect them ;
for they were produced extempore one evening while
he and I were walking together in the dining-room at
Eglintoune Castle, in 1760, and I have never men-
tioned them to him since.

Johnson said once to me, 'Sir, I honour Derrick
for his presence of mind. One night, when Floyd,^

1 He published a biographical work, containing an account of eminent
writers, in 3 vols. 8vo.

;et. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 119

another poor author, was wandering about the streets
in the night, he found Derrick fast asleep upon a
bulk; upon being suddenly waked. Derrick started
up, ''My dear Floyd, I am sorry to see you in this
destitute state : will you go home with me to my
lodgings ? " '

I again begged his advice as to my method of study
at Utrecht. * Come (said he), let us make a day of it.
Let us go down to Greenwich and dine, and talk of it
there.' The following Saturday was fixed for this
excursion.

As we walked along the Strand to-night, arm in
arm, a woman of the town accosted us, in the usual
enticing manner. 'No, no, my girl (said Johnson),
it won't do.'^ He, however, did not treat her
with harshness ; and we talked of the wretched life
of such women, and agreed that much more misery
than happiness, upon the whole, is produced by illicit
commerce between the sexes.

On Saturday, July SO, Dr. Johnson and I took a
sculler at the Temple stairs, and set out for Green-
wich. I asked him if he really thought a knowledge
of the Greek and Latin languages an essential requisite
to a good education. Johnson : ' Most certainly, sir ;
for those who know them have a very great advantage
over those who do not. Nay, sir, it is wonderful
what a difference learning makes upon people even in
the common intercourse of life, which does not appear
to be much connected with it.' 'And yet (said I),
people go through the world very well, and carry on
the business of life to good advantage, without leam-

1 (This is another passage that powerfully afifected the imagination
of Carlyle.— A. B.]

120 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

ing.* Johnson : ' Why, sir, that may be true in cases
where learning cannot possibly be of any use ; for
instance, this boy rows us as well without learning as
if he could sing the song of Oi-pheus to the Argonauts,
who were the first sailors.' He then called to the
boy, ' WTiat would you give, my lad, to know about
the Argonauts.''' 'Sir (said the boy), I would give
what I have.' Johnson was much pleased with his
answer, and we gave him a double fare. Dr. Johnson
then turning to me, ' Sir (said he), a desire of know-
ledge is the natural feeling of mankind ; and every
human being, whose mind is not debauched, will be
willing to give all that he has to get knowledge.'

We landed at the Old Swan, and walked to Billings-
gate, where we took oars and moved smoothly along
the silver lliames. It was a very fine day. We were
entertained with the immense number and variety of
ships that were lying at anchor, and with the beautiful
country on each side of the river.

I talked of preaching and of the great success which
those called Methodists ^ have. Johnson : ' Sir, it is

1 All who are acquainted with the history of religion (the most im-
portant, surely, that concerns the human mind) know that the ajjpella-
tion of Methodists was first given to a society of students in the
University of Oxford, who, about the year 1730, were distinguished by
an earnest and methodical attention to devout exercises. This disposi-
tion of mind is not a novelty, or peculiar to any sect, but has been,
and still may be, found in many Christians of every denomination.
Johnson himself was, in a dignified manner, a Methodist. In his
Rambler, No. i lo, he mentions with respect ' the whole discipline of
regulated piety,' and in his Prayers and Meditations many instances
occur of his anxious examination into his spiritual state. That this
religious earnestness, and in particular an observation of the influence
of the Holy Spirit, has sometimes degenerated into folly, and some-
times been counterfeited for base purposes, cannot be denied. But it
is not, therefore, fair to decry it when genuine. The principal argu-
ment in reason and good sense against Methodism is, that it tends to
debase human nature, and prevent the generous exertions of goodness,
by an unworthy supposition that God will pay no regard to them ;
although it is positively said in the Scriptures that he ' will reward

^T. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 121

owing to their expressing themselves in a plain and
familiar manner, which is the only way to do good to
the common people, and which clergymen of genius
and learning ought to do from a principle of duty,
when it is suited to their congregation ; a practice for
which they will be praised by men of sense. To insist
against drunkenness as a crime, because it debases
reason, the noblest faculty of man, would be of no
service to the common people : but to tell them that
they may die in a fit of drunkenness, and show them
how dreadful that would be, cannot fail to make a
deep impression. Sir, when your Scotch clergy give
up their homely manner, religion will soon decay in
that country.' Let this observation, as Johnson meant
it, be ever remembered.

I was much pleased to find myself with Johnson at
Greenwich, which he celebrates in his ' London ' as a
favourite scene. I had the poem in my pocket, and
read the lines aloud with enthusiasm :

' On Thames'a banks in silent thought we stood.
Where Greenwich smiles upon the silver flood :
Pleased with the seat which gave Eliza birth,
We kneel, and kiss the consecrated earth.'

every man according to his works.' But I am happy to have it in my
power to do justice to those whom it is the fashion to ridicule, without
any knowledge of their tenets ; and this I can do by quoting a passage
from one of tneir best apologists, Mr. Milner, who thus expresses their
doctrine upon this subject : Justified by faith, renewed in his faculties,
and constrained by the love of Christ, the believer moves in the
sphere of love and gratitude, and all his duties flow more or less from
this principle. And though i/iey are accumulating for him in heaven
a treasure of bliss proportioned to his faithfulness and activity, and
it is by no means inconsistent with his principles to feel the force of
this consideration, yet love itself sweetens every duty to his mind ; and
he thinks there is no absurdity in his feeling the love of God as the
grand commanding principle of his life.' — Essays on several Religious
Subjects, etc., by Joseph Milner, A.M., Master of the Grammar
School of Kingston-upon-HuU, 1789, p. 11. — Boswell.

122 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

He remarked that the structure of Greenwich
hospital was too magnificent for a place of charity, and
that its parts were too much detached to make one
great whole.

Buchanan, he said, was a very fine poet ; and ob-
served that he was the first who complimented a lady,
by ascribing to her the different perfections of the
heathen goddesses ; ^ but that Johnson improved upon
this by making his lady at the same time free from
their defects.

He dwelt upon Buchanan's elegant verses to Mary
Queen of Scots, Nympha CaledonicB, etc., and spoke
with enthusiasm of tlie beauty of Latin verse. * All
the modern languages (said he) cannot furnish so
melodious a line as

"Formosam resonare doces Amaryllida silvas.'"^

Afterwards he entered upon the business of the day,
which was to give me his advice as to a course of
study. And here I am to mention with much regret
that my record of what he said is miserably scanty. I
recollect with admiration an animating blaze of
eloquence, which roused every intellectual power in
me to the highest pitch, but must have dazzled me so
much that my memory could not preserve the sub-
stance of his discourse ; for the note which I find of
it is no more than this : ' He ran over the grand scale
of human knowledge ; advised me to select some
particular branch to excel in, but to acquire a little

1 \_Epigram. Lib. ii. ' In Elizabeth. Angliae Reg." I suspect that
the author's memory here deceived him, and that Johnson said, ' the
first modern poet,' for there is a well-known Epigram in X\ifi Antholoi^a
containing this kind of eulogy. — M.]

2 Virgil, Eel. i. v. 5.

^T. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 123

of every kind.' The defect of my minutes will be
fully supplied by a long letter upon the subject, which
he favoured me with after I had been some time at
Utrecht, and which my readers will have the pleasure
to peruse in its proper place.

We walked in the evening to Greenwich Park. He
asked me, I suppose by way of trying my disposition,
' Is not this very fine ? ' Having no exquisite relish
of the beauties of Nature, and being more delighted
with ' the busy hum of men,' I answered, ' Yes, sir,
but not equal to Fleet Street,' Johnson: 'You are
right, sir.'

I am aware that many of my readers may censure
my want of taste. Let me, however, shelter myself
under the authority of a very fashionable Baronet ^ in
the brilliant world, who, on his attention being called
to the fragrance of a May evening in the country,
observed, ' This may be very well ; but for my part I
prefer the smell of a flambeau at the playhouse. '

We stayed so long at Greenwich that our sail up
the river, in our return to London, was by no means
80 pleasant as in the morning ; for the night air was
60 cold that it made me shiver. I was the more
sensible of it from having sat up all the night before
recollecting and writing in my Journal what I thought
worthy of preservation, — an exertion which, during
the first part of my acquaintance with Johnson, I

1 My friend Sir Michael Le Fleming. This gentleman, with all his
experience of sprightly and elegant life, inherits, with the beautiful
family domain, no inconsiderable share of that love of literature which
distinguished his venerable grandfather, the Bishop of Carlisle. He
one day observed to me of Dr. Johnson, in a felicity of phrase, ' There
is a blunt dignity about him on every occasion.'

[Sir Michael Le Fleming died of an apoplectic fit while conversing at
the Admiralty with Lord Howick, May 19, i8o6. — M.]

124 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

frequently made. I remember having sat up four
nights in one week, without being much incommoded
in the daytime.

Johnson, whose robust frame was not in the least
a£Fected by the cold, scolded me, as if my shivering
had been a paltry effeminacy, saying, ' Why do you
shiver ? ' Sir William Scott of the Commons told me
that when he complained of a headache in the post-
chaise, as they were travelling together to Scotland,
Johnson treated him in the same manner : ' At your
age, sir, I had no headache. ' It is not easy to make
allowance for sensations in others which we ourselves
have not at the time. We must all have experienced
how very differently we are affected by the complaints
of our neighbours when we are well and when we are
ill. In full health we can scarcely believe that they
suffer much ; so faint is the image of pain upon our
imagination : when softened by sickness we readily
sympathise with the sufferings of others.

We concluded the day at the Turk's Head coffee-
house very socially. He was pleased to listen to a
particular account which I gave him of my family,
and of its hereditary estate, as to the extent and
population of which he asked questions and made
calculations ; recommending at the same time a liberal
kindness to the tenantry, as people over whom the
proprietor was placed by Providence. He took delight
in hearing my description of the romantic seat of my
ancestors. ' I must be there, sir (said he), and we
will live in the old castle ; and if there is not room
in it remaining we will buUd one.' I was highly
flattered, but could scarcely indulge a hope that
Auchinleck would indeed be honoured by his presence.

>ET. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 125

and celebrated by a description, as it afterwards was,
in his Journey to the Western Islands.

After he had again talked of my setting out for
Holland, he said, ' I must see thee out of England ; I
will accompany you to Harwich.' I could not find
words to express what I felt upon this unexpected and
very great mark of his aifectionate regard.

Next day, Sunday, July 31, I told him I had been
that morning at a meeting of the people called Quakers,
where I had heard a woman preach. Johnson : ' Sir,
a woman's preaching is like a dog's walking on his
hind legs. It is not done well ; but you are surprised
to find it done at all.'

On Tuesday, August 2 (the day of my departure
from London having been fixed for the 5th), Dr.
Johnson did me the honour to pass a part of the morn-
ing with me at my chambers. He said that 'he
always felt an inclination to do nothing.' I observed
that it was strange to think that the most indolent
man in Britain had written the most laborious work.
The English Dictionary.

I mentioned an imprudent publication,^ by a certain
friend of his, at an early period of life, and asked him
if he thought it would hurt him. Johnson : ' No,
sir, not much. It may, perhaps, be mentioned at an
election.'

I had now made good my title to be a privileged
man, and was carried by him in the evening to drink
tea with Miss Williams,^ whom, though under the

1 [This is generally supposed to refer to Burke's ironical Vindication
of Natural Society, published when its author was twenty-six years of
age.— A. B.]

2 [In a paper already referred to (see vol. i. p. 64), a lady who appears
to have been well acquainted with Mrs. Williams thus speaks of her : —

' Mrs. Williams was a person extremely interesting. She had an un-

126 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

misfortune of having lost her sight, I found to be
agreeable in conversation ; for she had a variety of
literature, and expressed herself well : but her peculiar
value was the intimacy in which she had long lived
with Johnson, by which she was acquainted with his
habits, and knew how to lead him on to talk.

After tea he carried me to what he called his walk,
which was a long narrow paved court in the neigh-
bourhood, overshadowed by some trees. There we
sauntered a considerable time ; and I complained to

common firmness of mind, a boundless curiosity, retentive memory, and
strong judgment. She had various powers of pleasing. Her personal
afflictions and slender fortune she seemed to forget when she had the
power of doing an act of kindness : she was social, cheerful, and active,
in a state of body that was truly deplorable. Her regard to Dr.
Johnson was formed with such strength of judgment and firm esteem
that her voice never hesitated when she repeated his maxims or recited
his good deeds ; though upon many other occasions her want of sight
had led her to make so much use of her ear as to affect her speech.

' Mrs. Williams was blind before she was acquainted with Dr.
Johnson. She had many resources, though none very great. With
the Miss Wilkinsons she generally passed a part of the year, and
received from them presents, and from the first who died a legacy of
clothes and money. The last of them, Mrs. Jane, left her an annual
rent ; but from the blundering manner of the will I fear she never
reaped the benefit of it. That lady left money to erect a hospital for
ancient maids : but the number she had allotted being too great for the
donation, the Doctor [Johnson] said, it would be better to expunge the
word maintain, and put in to starve such a number of old maids.
They asked him, " What name'should be given it? " he replied, "Let it
be called Jenny's Whim." [The name of a well-known tavern near
Chelsea, in former days. ]

' Lady Philips made her a small annual allowance, and some other
Welsh ladies, to all of whom she was related. Mrs. Montagu, on the
death of Mr. Montagu, settled upon her [by deed] ten pounds per
annum. As near as I can calculate, Mrs. Williams had about thirty-
five or forty pounds a year. The furniture she used [in her apartment
in Dr. Johnson's house] was her own ; her expenses were small, tea and
bread and butter being at least half of her nourishment. Sometimes
she had a servant or charwoman to do the ruder offices of the house :
but she was herself active and industrious. I have frequently seen her
at work. Upon remarking one day her facility in moving about the
house, searching into drawers, and finding books, without the help of
sight, " Believe me (said she), persons who cannot do those common
offices without sight did but little while they enjoyed that blessing."
Scanty circumstances, bad health, and blindness, are surely a sufficient
apology for her being sometimes impatient ; her natural disposition was
good, friendly, apd humane.' — M.]

^T. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 127

him that my love of London and of his company was
such that I shrunk almost from the thought of going
away even to travel, which is generally so much
desired by young men. He roused me by manly and
spirited conversation. He advised me, when settled
in any place abroad, to study with an eagerness after
knowledge, and to apply to Greek an hour every day ;
and when I was moving about, to read diligently the
great book of mankind.

On Wednesday, August 3, we had our last social
evening at the Turk's Head coffee-house, before my
setting out for foreign parts. I had the misfortune,
before we parted, to irritate him unintentionally. I
mentioned to him how common it was in the world to
tell absurd stories of him, and to ascribe to him very
strange sayings. Johnson : ' What do they make me
say, sir ? ' Boswell : ' Why, sir, as an instance very
strange indeed (laughing heartily as I spoke), David
Hume told me you said that you would stand before
a battery of cannon to restore the Convocation to its
full powers.' Little did I apprehend that he had
actually said this : but I was soon convinced of my
error ; for, with a determined look, he thundered out,
* And would I not, sir .'' Shall the Presbyterian Kirk
of Scotland have its General Assembly, and the Church
of England be denied its Convocation?' He was
walking up and down the room while I told him the
anecdote ; but when he uttered this explosion of high-
church zeal he had come close to my chair, and his
eyes flashed with indignation. I bowed to the storm,
and diverted the force of it, by leading him to expatiate
on the influence which religion derived from maintain-
ing the church with great external respectability.

128 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

I must not omit to mention that he this year wrote
The lAfe of Ascham and the Dedication to the Earl of
Shaftesbury prefixed to the edition of that writer's
English works, published by Mr. Bennet.

On Friday, August 5, we set out early in the morn-
ing in the Harwich stage-coach. A fat elderly gentle-
woman, and a young Dutchman, seemed the most
inclined among us to conversation. At the inn where
we dined the gentlewoman said that she had done her
best to educate her children ; and particularly, that
she had never suffered them to be a moment idle.
Johnson: 'I wish, madam, you would educate me too:
for I have been an idle fellow all my life.' 'I am sure,
sir (said she), you have not been idle.' Johnson:
' Nay, madam, it is very true ; and that gentleman
there (pointing to me) has been idle. He was idle at
Edinburgh. His father sent him to Glasgow, where
he continued to be idle. He then came to London,
where he has been very idle ; and now he is going to
Utrecht, where he will be as idle as ever,' I asked
him privately how he could expose me so. Johnson :
* Poh, poh ! (said he), they knew nothing about you,
and wiU think of it no more.' In the afternoon the
gentlewoman talked violently against the Roman
Catholics, and of the horrors of the Inquisition. To
the utter astonishment of all the passengers but my-
self who knew that he could talk upon any side of a
question, he defended the Inquisition, and maintained
that 'false doctrine should be checked on its first
appearance ; that the civil power should unite with
the church in punishing those who dared to attack the
established religion, and that such only were punished
by the Inquisition.' He had in his pocket Pomponius

/ET. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 129

Mela de Situ Orbis, in which he read occasionally, and
seemed very intent upon ancient geography. Though
by no means niggardly, his attention to what was
generally right was so minute, that having observed
at one of the stages that I ostentatiously gave a shilling
to the coachman, when the custom was for each
passenger to give only sixpence, he took me aside and
scolded me, saying that what I had done would make
the coachman dissatisfied with all the rest of the
passengers who gave him no more than his due. This
was a just reprimand ; for in whatever way a man may
indulge his generosity or his vanity in spending his
money, for the sake of others he ought not to raise
the price of any article for which there is a constant
demand.

He talked of Mr. Blacklock's poetry, so far as it
was descriptive of visible objects ; and observed, that
' as its author had the misfortune to be blind, we may
be absolutely sure that such passages are combinations
of what he has remembered of the works of other
writers who could see. That foolish fellow, Spence,
has laboured to explain philosophically how Black-
lock may have done, by means of his own faculties,
what it is impossible he should do. The solution, as I
have given it, is plain. Suppose I know a man to be
so lame that he is absolutely incapable to move him
self, and I find him in a different room from that in
which I left him ; shall I puzzle myself with idle con-
jectures, that perhaps his nerves have by some un-
known change all at once become efi"ective ? No, sir,
it is clear how he got into a diflferent room : he was
carried. '
Having stopped a night at Colchester, Johnson
VOL. n. I

180 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

talked of that town with veneration, for having stood
a siege for Charles the First. The Dutchman alone
now remained with us. He spoke English tolerably
well ; and thinking to recommend himself to us by
expatiating on the superiority of the criminal juris-
prudence of this country over that of Holland, he
inveighed against the barbarity of putting an accused
person to the torture in order to force a confession.
But Johnson was as ready for this as for the Inquisi-
tion. 'Why, sir, you do not, I find, understand the
law of your own country. To torture in Holland is
considered as a favour to an accused person ; for no
man is put to the torture there unless there is as much
evidence against him as would amount to conviction
in England. An accused person among you, there-
fore, has one chance more to escape punishment than
those who are tried among us.'

At supper this night he talked of good eating with
uncommon satisfaction. ' Some people (said he) have
a foolish way of not minding, or pretending not to
mind, what they eat. For my part, I mind my belly
very studiously, and very carefully ; for I look upon
it that he who does not mind his belly will hardly
mind anything else.' He now appeared to me Jean
Bull phUosophe, and he was for the moment not only
serious but vehement. Yet I have heard him, upon
other occasions, talk with great contempt of people
who were anxious to gratify their palates ; and the
206th number of his Rambler is a masterly essay against
gulosity. His practice, indeed, I must acknowledge,
may be considered as casting the balance of his
different opinions upon this subject : for I never knew
any man who relished good eating more than he did.

iET. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 131

When at table lie was totally absorbed in the business
of the moment; his looks seemed riveted to his
plate ; nor would he, unless when in very high com-
pany, say one word, or even pay the least attention
to what was said by others, till he had satisfied his
appetite, which was so fierce, and indulged with such
intenseness, that while in the act of eating the veins
of his forehead swelled, and generally a strong per-
spiration was visible. To those whose sensations were
delicate this could not but be disgusting ; and it was
doubtless not very suitable to the character of a
philosopher, who should be distinguished by self-
command. But it must be owned that Johnson,
though he could be rigidly abstemious, was not a
temperate man either in eating or drinking. He could
refrain, but he could not use moderately. He told
me that he had fasted two days without inconvenience,
and that he had never been hungry but once. They
who beheld with wonder how much he ate upon all
occasions when his dinner was to his taste, could not
easily conceive what he must have meant by hunger ;
and not only was he remarkable for the extraordinary
quantity which he ate, but he was, or aflfected to be, a
man of very nice discernment in the science of cookery.
He used to descant critically on the dishes which had
been at table where he had dined or supped, and to
recollect very minutely what he had liked. I re-
member, when he was in Scotland, his praising
* Gordon's palates ' (a dish of palates at the Honour-
able Alexander Gordon's), with a warmth of expression
which might have done honour to more important
subjects. 'As for Maclaurin's imitation of a made dish,
it was a wretched attempt.' He about the same time

132 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

was so mucli displeased with the performance of a
nobleman's French cook that he exclaimed with
vehemence, ^ I 'd throw such a rascal into the river ' ;
and he then proceeded to alarm a lady at whose house
he was to sup, by the following manifesto of his skiU :
' I, madam, who live at a variety of good tables, am a
much better judge of cookery than any person who
has a very tolerable cook, but lives much at home ; foi
his palate is gradually adapted to the taste of his
cook, whereas, madam, in trying by a wider range I
can more exquisitely judge.' When invited to dine,
even with an intimate friend, he was not pleased if
something better than a plain dinner was not prepared
for him. I have heard him say on such an occasion,
'This was a good dinner enough, to be sure ; but it
was not a dinner to ask a man to.' On the other
hand, he was wont to express with great glee his
satisfaction when he had been entertained quite to his
mind. One day when he had dined with his neigh-
bour and landlord in Bolt Court, Mr. AUen the
printer, whose old housekeeper had studied his taste
in everything, he pronounced this eulogy : ' Sir, we
could not have had a better dinner had there been
a Synod of Cooks.'

While we were left by ourselves after the Dutchman
had gone to bed. Dr. Johnson talked of that studied
behaviour which many have recommended and prac-
tised. He disapproved of it : and said, ' I never con-
sidered whether I should be a grave man or a merry
man, but just let inclination for the time have its
course.'

He flattered me with some hopes that he would, in
the course of the following summer, come over to

^T. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 133

Holland, and accompany me in a tour through the
Netherlands.

I teased him with fanciful apprehensions of un-
happiness. A moth having fluttered round the candle,
and burnt itself, he laid hold of this little incident to
admonish me, saying, with a sly look, and in a solemn
but a quiet tone, 'That creature was its own tor-
mentor, and I believe its name was Boswell.*

Next day we got to Harwich to dinner ; and my
passage in the packet-boat to Helvoetsluys being
secured, and my baggage put on board, we dined at
our inn by ourselves. I happened to say it would be
terrible if he should not find a speedy opportunity of
returning to London, and be confined in so dull a
place. Johnson : * Don't, sir, accustom yourself to
use big words for little matters. It would not be
terrible though I were to be detained some time here.'
The practice of using words of disproportionate magni-
tude is, no doubt, too frequent everywhere; but I
think most remarkable among the French, of which
all who have travelled in France must have been
struck with innumerable instances.

We went and looked at the church, and having
gone into it and walked up to the altar, Johnson,
whose piety was constant and fervent, sent me to my
knees, saying, ' Now that you are going to leave your
native country, recommend yourself to the protection
of your Creator and Redeemer.'

After we came out of the church we stood talking
for some time together of Bishop Berkeley's ingenious
sophistry to prove the non-existence of matter, and
that everything in the universe is merely ideal. I
observed, that though we are satisfied his doctrine is

134 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

not true, it is impossible to refute it. I never shall
forget the alacrity with which Johnson answered,
striking his foot with mighty force against a large
stone, till he rebounded from it, ' I refute it thus. ' ^
This was a stout exemplification of the first truths of
Fere Bouffier, or the original principles of Reid and of
Beattie ; without admitting which we can no more
argue in metaphysics than we can argue in mathe-
matics without axioms. To me it is not conceivable
how Berkeley can be answered by pure reasoning ;
but I know that the nice and diflScult task was to have
been undertaken by one of the most luminous minds
of the present age, had not politics ' turned him from
calm philosophy aside.' What an admirable display
of subtilty, united with brilliance, might his con-
tending with Berkeley have afforded us ! How must
we, when we reflect on the loss of such an intellectual
feast, regret that he should be characterised as the
man,

' Who bom for the universe narrow'd his mind,
And to party gave up what was meant for mankind ' ?

My revered friend walked down with me to the
beach, where we embraced and parted with tender-
ness, and engaged to correspond by letters. I said,
* I hope, sir, you will not forget me in my absence.*

1 [Dr. Johnson seems to have been imperfectly acquainted with
Berkeley's doctrine: as his experiment only proves that we have the
sensation of solidity, which Berkeley did not deny. He admitted that
we had STnsations or ideas that are usually called sensible qualities, one
of which is solidity: he only denied the existence of matter, i.e. an
inert senseless substance, in which they are supposed to subsist. _ John-
son's exemplification concurs with the vulgar notion that solidity is
matter.— Kearney.] [Dr. Birkbeck Hill appositely quotes a saying of
Turgot's : ' He who had never doubted of the existence of matter
might be assured he had no turn for metaphysical disquisitions.' — A. B.]

>ET. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 135

Johnson : ' Nay, sir, it is more likely you should
forget me than I should forget you.' As the vessel
put out to sea I kept my eyes upon him for a con-
siderable time, while he remained rolling his majestic
frame in his usual manner ; and at last I perceived
him walk hack into the town, and he disappeared.

Utrecht seeming at first very dull to me, after the
animated scenes of London, my spirits were grievously
affected; and I wrote to Johnson a plaintive and
desponding letter, to which he paid no regard. After-
wards, when I had acquired a firmer tone of mind, I
wrote him a second letter, expressing much anxiety
to hear from him. At length I received the following
epistle, which was of important service to me, and,
I trust, will be so to many others : —

A MR. MR. BOSWEIiL, A LA COUR DE l'eMPEREUR,
UTRECHT

'Deab Sib, — You are not to think yourself forgotten, or
criminally neglected, that you have had yet no letter from
me. I love to see my friends, to hear from them, to talk to
them, and to talk of them ; but it is not without a consider-
able effort of resolution that I prevail upon myself to write.
I would not, however, gratify my own indolence by the omis-
sion of any important duty, or any office of real kindness.

' To tell you that I am or am not well, that I have or have
not been in the country, that I drank your health in the room
in which we last sat together, and that yom: acquaintance
continue to speak of you with their former kindness, topics
with which those letters are commonly filled which are written
only for the sake of writing, I seldom shall think worth com-
municating ; but if I can have it in my power to calm any
harassing disquiet, to excite any virtuous desire, to rectify
any important opinion, or fortify any generous resolution,
you need not doubt but I shall at least wish to prefer the
pleasure of gratifying a friend much less esteemed than your-

136 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763

self, before the gloomy calm of idle vacancy. Whether I
shall easily arrive at an exact punctuality of correspondence
I cannot teU. I shall, at present, expect that you will receive
this in return for two which I have had from you. The first,
indeed, gave me an account so hopeless of the state of your
mind, that it hardly admitted or deserved an answer ; by the
second I was much better pleased ; and the pleasure will still
be increased by such a narrative of the progress of your
studies, as may evince the continuance of an equal and
rational application of your mind to some useful inquiry.

' You will, perhaps, wish to ask what study I would recom-
mend. I shall not speak of theology, because it ought not to
be considered as a question whether you shall endeavour to
know the will of God.

' I shall, therefore, consider only such studies as we are at
liberty to pursue or to neglect ; and of these I know not how
you will make a better choice than by studying the civil law
as your father advises, and the ancient languages, as you had
determined for yourself; at least resolve, while you remain
in any settled residence, to spend a certain number of hours
every day amongst your books. The dissipation of thought of
which you complain is nothing more than the vacillation of a
mind suspended between different motives, and changing its
direction as any motive gains or loses strength. If you can
but kindle in your mind any strong desire, if you can but keep
predominant any wish for some particular excellence or attain-
ment, the gusts of imagination will break away without any
effect upon your conduct, and commonly without any traces
left upon the memory.

'There lurks, perhaps, in every human heart a desire of
distinction, which inclines every man first to hope, and then
to believe, that nature has given him something peculiar to
himself. This vanity makes one mind nurse aversion, and
another actuate desires, tiU they rise by art much above their
original state of power ; and as affectation in time improves
to habit, they at last tyrannise over him who at first en-
couraged them only for show. Every desire is a viper in the
bosom, who, while he was chill, was harmless; but when
warmth gave him strength, exerted it in poison. You know a
gentleman, who, when first he set his foot in the gay world.

/ET. 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 137

as he prepared himself to whirl in the vortex of pleasure,
imagined a total indifference and universal negligence to be
the most agreeable concomitants of youth, and the strongest
indication of an airy temper and a quick apprehension.
Vacant to every object, and sensible of every impulse, he
thought that all appearance of diligence would deduct some-
thing from the reputation of genius ; and hoped that he should
appear to attain, amidst all the ease of carelessness, and all
the tumult of diversion, that knowledge and those accomplish-
ments which mortals of the common fabric obtain only by
mute abstraction and solitary drudgery. He tried this scheme
of life a while, was made weary of it by his sense and his
virtue ; he then wished to return to his studies ; and finding
long habits of idleness and pleasure harder to be cured than
he expected, still willing to retain his claim to some extra-
ordinary prerogatives, resolved the common consequences of
irregtilarity into an imalterable decree of destiny, and con-
cluded that Nature had originally formed him incapable of
rational employment.

' Let aU such fancies, illusive and destructive, be banished
henceforward from your thoughts for ever. Resolve, and
keep your resolution; choose, and pursue your choice. If
you spend this day in study, you will find yourself still more
able to study to-morrow ; not that you are to expect that you
shall at once obtain a complete victory. Depravity is not
very easily overcome. Eesolution wiU sometimes relax, and
diligence will sometimes be interrupted ; but let no accidental
surprise or deviation, whether short or long, dispose you to
despondency. Consider these failings as incident to all
mankind. Begin again where you left off, and endeavoiir to
avoid the seducements that prevailed over you before.

' This, my dear BosweU, is advice which, perhaps, has been
often given you, and given you without effect. But this
advice, if you will not take from others, you must take from
your own reflections, if you purpose to do the duties of the
station to which the boimty of Providence has called you.

* Let me have a long letter from you as soon as you can. I
hope you continue your Journal, and enrich it with many
observations upon the country in which you reside. It will
be a favour if you can get me any books in the Frisio Ian-

138 LIFE OF DR, JOHNSON [1764

guage, and can inquire how the poor are maintained in the
Seven Provinces. — I am, dear sir, your most affectionate ser-
vant, Sam. Johkson.
' London, Dec. 8, 1763.'

I am sorry to observe, that neither in my own
minutes, nor in my letters to Johnson which have
been preserved by him, can I find any information
how the poor are maintained in the Seven Provinces.
But I shall extract from one of my letters what I
learnt concerning the other subject of his curiosity :

' I have made all possible inquiry with respect to the Frisic
langTiage, and find that it has been less cultivated than any
other of the northern dialects; a certain proof of which is
their deficiency of books. Of the old Frisic there are no
remains, except some ancient laws preserved by Schotanus in
his Beschryvvnge van die Heerlykheid van Friesland, and his
Historia Frisica. I have not yet been able to find these
books. Professor Trotz, who formerly was of the University
of Vranyken, in Friesland, and is at present preparing an
edition of all the Frisic laws, gave me this information. Of
the modem Frisic, or what is spoken by the boors of this
day, I have procured a specimen. It is Gisbert Japix's
Bymelerie, which is the only book that they have. It is
amazing that they have no translation of the Bible, no treatises
of devotion, nor even any of the ballads and story-books which
are so agreeable to country people. You shall have Japix by
the first convenient opportunity. I doubt not to pick up
Schotanus. Mynheer Trotz has promised me his assistance.'

Early in 1764 Johnson paid a visit to the Langton
family, at their seat of Langton in Lincolnshire, where
he passed some time, much to his satisfaction. His
friend Bennet Langton, it will not be doubted, did
everything in his power to make the place agreeable
to so illustrious a guest : and the elder Mr. Langton
and his lady, being fully capable of understanding his
value, were not wanting in attention. He, however.

MT-SSl LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 139

told me, that old Mr. Langtoiij though a man of con-
siderable learning, had so little allowance to make for
his occasional 'laxity of talk,' that because in the
course of discussion he sometimes mentioned what
might be said in favour of the peculiar tenets of the
Romish Church, he went to his grave believing him to
be of that communion.

Johnson, during his stay at Langton, had the ad-
vantage of a good library, and saw several gentlemen
of the neighbourhood. I have obtained from Mr.
Langton the following particulars of this period.

He was now fully convinced that he could not have
been satisfied with a country living ; for talking of a
respectable clergyman in Lincolnshire, he observed,
*This man, sir, fills up the duties of his life well. I
approve of him, but could not imitate him.'

To a lady who endeavoured to vindicate herself
from blame for neglecting social attention to worthy
neighbours, by saying ' I would go to them if it would
do them any good,' he said, * What good, madam, do
you expect to have in your power to do them .f* It is
showing them respect, and that is doing them good.'

So socially accommodating was he, that once, whea
Mr. Langton and he were driving together in a coach,
and Mr. Langton complained of being sick, he insisted
that they should go out and sit on the back of it in the
open air, which they did. And being sensible how
strange the appearance must be, observed, that a
countryman whom they saw in a field would probably
be thinking, ' If these two madmen should come down,
what would become of me } '

Soon after his return to London, which was in
February, was founded that Club which existed long

140 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1764

without a name, but at Mr. Garrick's funeral became
distinguished by the title of The Literary Club. Sir
Joshua Reynolds had the merit of being the proposer
of it, to which Johnson acceded, and the original
members were. Sir Joshua Reynolds, Dr. Johnson,
Mr. Edmund Burke, Dr. Nugent, Mr. Beauclerk, Mr.
Langton, Dr. Goldsmith, Mr. Chamier, and Sir John
Hawkins. They met at the Turk's Head, in Gerrard
Street, Soho, one evening in every week, at seven,
and generally continued their conversation till a pretty
late hour. This club has been gradually increased to
its present number, thirty-five. After about ten years,
instead of supping weekly, it was resolved to dine to-
gether once a fortnight during the meeting of Parlia-
ment. Their original tavern having been converted
into a private house, they moved first to Prince's in
Sackville Street, then to Le Teller's in Dover Street,
and now meet at Parsloe's, St. James's Street. Be-
tween the time of its formation and the time at which
this work is passing through the press (June 1792),'^
the following persons, now dead, were members of it ;
Mr. Dunning (afterwards Lord Ashburton), Mr.
Samuel Dyer, Mr. Garrick, Dr. Shipley, Bishop of
St. Asaph, Mr. Vesey, Mr. Thomas Warton, and Dr.
Adam Smith. The present members are, Mr. Burke,
Mr. Langton, Lord Charlemont, Sir Robert Chambers,
Dr. Percy Bishop of Dromore, Dr. Barnard Bishop
of Killaloe, Dr. Marlay Bishop of Clonfert, Mr. Fox,
Dr. George Fordyce, Sir William Scott, Sir Joseph
Banks, Sir Charles Bunbury, Mr. Windham of Nor-
folk, Mr. Sheridan, Mr. Gibbon, Sir William Jones,
Mr. Colman, Mr. Steevens, Dr. Burney, Dr. Joseph

* [The second edition is here spoken of. — M.]

jET. 55] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 141

WartoUj Mr. Malone, Lord Ossory, Lord Spencer,
Lord Lucan, Lord PalmerstoUj Lord Eliot, Lord
Macartney, Mr. Richard Burke junior. Sir William
Hamilton, Dr. Warren, Mr. Courtenay, Dr. Hinch-
liffe Bishop of Peterborough, the Duke of Leeds,
Dr. Douglas Bishop of Salisbury, and the writer of
this account.

Sir John Hawkins ^ represents himself as a ' seceder '
from this society, and assigns as the reason of his
' unthdrawing ' himself from it, that its late hours were
inconsistent with his domestic arrangements. In this
he is not accurate ; for the fact was that he one even-
ing attacked Mr. Burke in so rude a manner that all
the company testified their displeasure ; and at their
next meeting his reception was such that he never
came again. ^

He is equally inaccurate with respect to Mr. Garrick,
of whom he says, ' he trusted that the least intimation
of a desire to come among us would procure him a
ready admission, but, in this he was mistaken. John-
son consulted me upon it ; and when I could find na
objection to receiving him, exclaimed, " He will dis-
turb us by his buffoonery " ; and afterwards so managed
matters that he was never formally proposed, and, by
consequence, never admitted.' ^

In justice both to Mr. Garrick and Dr. Johnson, I
think it necessary to rectify this mis-statement. The
truth is, that not very long after the institution of our
club. Sir Joshua Reynolds was speaking of it to

1 Life of Johnson, p. 425.

2 From Sir Joshua Refolds. [The Knight having refused to pay
his portion of the reckoning for the supper, oecause he usually ate no
supper at home, Johnson observed, ' Sir John, sir, is a very undubaile
man.' — Burney.] 8 Li/e of Johnson, p. 425.

142 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 1764

Garrick. ' I like it much (said he), I think I shall be
of you.' When Sir Joshua mentioned this to Dr,
Johnson he was much displeased with the actor's con-
ceit. ' He 'II be of us (said Johnson), how does he
know we will permit him } The first duke in England
has no right to hold such language. ' However, when
Garrick was regularly proposed some time afterwards,
Johnson, though he had taken a momentary offence
at his arrogance, warmly and kindly supported him,
and he was accordingly elected,^ was a most agreeable
member, and continued to attend our meetings to the
time of his death.

Mrs. Piozzi^ has also given a similar misrepre-
sentation of Johnson's treatment of Garrick in this
particular, as if he had used these contemptuous
expressions : ' If Garrick does apply, I '11 blackball
him. Surely, one ought to sit in a society like ours,

"Unelbow'd by a gamester, pimp, or player."'

I am happy to be enabled by such unquestionable
authority as that of Sir Joshua Reynolds, as well as
from my own knowledge, to vindicate at once the
heart of Johnson and the social merit of Garrick.

In this year, except what he may have done in
revising Shakespeare, we do not find that he laboured
much in literature. He wrote a review of Grainger's
' Sugar Cane,' a poem, in the London Chronicle. He
told me that Dr. Percy wrote the greatest part of this
review ; but I imagine he did not recollect it dis-
tinctly, for it appears to be mostly, if not altogether.

1 [Mr. Garrick was elected in March 1773. — M.]
8 Letters to and from Dr. Johnson, vol. ii. p. 278.

yET. 55] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 143

his own. He also wrote in the Critical Review an
account of Goldsmith's excellent poem, 'The Traveller.*

The ease and independence to which he had at last
attained by royal munificence increased his natural
indolence. In his Meditations he thus accuses himself:
'Good Friday, April 20, 1764. — I have made no refor-
mation ; I have lived totally useless, more sensual in
thought, and more addicted to wine and meat.' ^ And
next morning he thus feelingly complains : ' My indo-
lence, since my last reception of the sacrament, has
sunk into grosser sluggishness, and my dissipation
spread into wilder negligence. My thoughts have
been clouded with sensuality ; and, except that from
the beginning of this year I have, in some measure,
forborne excess of strong drink, my appetites have
predominated over my reason. A kind of strange
oblivion has overspread me, so that I know not what
has become of the last year ; and perceive that inci-
dents and intelligence pass over me without leaving
any impression. ' He then solemnly says, ' This is
not the life to which heaven is promised,' ^ and he
earnestly resolves an amendment.

It was his custom to observe certain days with a
pious abstraction, viz.. New Year's Day, the day of his
wife's death. Good Friday, Easter Day, and his own
birthday. He this year says : 'I have now spent fifty-
five years in resolving, having, from the earliest time
almost that I can remember, been forming schemes of
a better life. I have done nothing. The need of doing,
therefore, is pressing, since the time of doing is short.
O God, grant me to resolve aright, and to keep my

1 Praytrs and Meditations, p. 53. 8 jm^ p, j,.

144 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1764

resolutions, for Jesus Christ's sake. Amen.' ^ Such a
tenderness of conscience, such a fervent desire of
improvement, will rarely be found. It is surely not
decent in those who are hardened in indifference to
spiritual improvement, to treat this pious anxiety of
Johnson with contempt.

About this time he was afflicted with a very severe
return of the hypochondriac disorder which was ever
lurking about him. He was so ill as, notwithstanding
his remarkable love of company, to be entirely averse
to society — the most fatal symptom of that malady.
Dr. Adams told me that, as an old friend, he was
admitted to visit him, and that he found him in a
deplorable state, sighing, groaning, talking to himself,
and restlessly walking from room to room. He then
used this emphatical expression of the misery which
he felt : ' I would consent to have a limb amputated
to recover my spirits.'

Talking to himself was, indeed, one of his singu- •
Tarities ever since I knew him. I was certain that he
was frequently uttering pious ejaculations ; for frag-
ments of the Lord's Prayer have been distinctly over-
heard. ^ His friend, Mr. Thomas Davies — of whom
Churchill says,

' That Davies hath a very pretty wife ' :

1 Prayers and Meditations, p. 584.

2 [It used to be imagined at Mr. Thrale's, when Johnson retired to a
window or corner of the room, by perceiving his lijjs in motion, and
hearing a murmur without audible articulation, that he was praying :
but this was not always the case, for I was once, perhaps unperceived
by him, writing at a table, so near the place of his retreat that I heard
him repeat some lines in an ode of Horace, over and over again, as if
by iteration, to exercise the organs of speech, and fix the ode in bis
memory :

Audiet cives acuisse ferrum,

Quo graves Persee melius perirent ;

Audiet pugnas . . .

Carm. L. i. Od. ii. 21.
It was during the American war. — Bdrnev.]

^T. 55] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 145

when Dr. Johnson muttered, 'Lead us not into
temptation' — used with waggish and gallant humour
to whisper Mrs. Davies : ' You, my dear, are the
cause of this. '

He had another particularity, of which none of his
friends ever ventured to ask an explanation. It
appeared to me some superstitious habit, which he
had contracted early, and from which he had never
called upon his reason to disentangle him. This was
his anxious care to go out or in at a door or passage
by a certain number of steps from a certain point, or
at least so as that either his right or his left foot (I am
not certain which) should constantly make the first
actual movement when he came close to the door or
passage. Thus I conjecture : for I have, upon in-
numerable occasions, observed him suddenly stop, and
then seem to count his steps with a deep earnestness ;
and when he had neglected or gone wrong in this
sort of magical movement, I have seen him go back
again, put himself in a proper posture to begin the
ceremony, and, having gone through it, break from
his abstraction, walk briskly on, and join his com-
panion. A strange instance of something of this
nature, even when on horseback, happened when he
was in the isle of Skye.^ Sir Joshua Reynolds has
observed him to go a good way about rather than
cross a particular alley in Leicester-fields ; but this
Sir Joshua imputed to his having had some disagree-
able recollection associated with it.

That the most minute singularities which belonged
to him, and made very observable parts of his appear-

1 Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, 3rd edition, p. 315.
VOL. II. K

146 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1764

ance and manner, may not be omitted, it is requisite to
mention, that whUe talking, or even musing as he sat
in his chair, he commonly held his head to one side
towards his right shoulder, and shook it in a tremu-
lous manner, moving his body backwards and forwards,
and rubbing his left knee in the same direction with
the palm of his hand. In the intervals of articulating
he made various sounds with his mouth, sometimes as
if ruminating, or what is called chewing the cud,
sometimes giving half a whistle, sometimes making
his tongue play backwards from the roof of his mouth,
as if clucking like a hen, and sometimes protruding it
against his upper gums in front, as if pronouncing
quickly under his breath, too, too, too : all this accom-
panied sometimes with a thoughtful look, but more
frequently with a smile. Generally when he had con-
cluded a period, in the course of a dispute, by which
time he was a good deal exhausted by violence and
vociferation, he used to blow out his breath like a
whale. This I suppose was a relief to his lungs ; and
seemed in him to be a contemptuous mode of expres-
sion, as if he had made the arguments of his opponent
fly like chaff before the wind.

I am fully aware how very obvious an occasion I
here g^ve for the sneering jocularity of such as have
no relish of an exact likeness, which, to render com-
plete, he who draws it must not disdain the slightest
strokes. But if witlings should be inclined to attack
this account, let them have the candour to quote what
I have offered in my defence.

He was for some time in the summer at Easton
Maudit, Northamptonshire, on a visit to the Reverend
Dr. Percy, now Bishop of Dromore. Whatever dis-

.ET. 55] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 147

satisfaction he felt at what he considered as a slow
progress in intellectual improvement, we find that his
heart was tender, and his affections warm, as appears
from the following very kind letter :

TO JOSHUA REYNOLDS, ESQ., IN LEICESTEB-FI£IJ)S,
LONDON

'Deab Sm, — I did not hear of your sickness till I heard
likewise of yonr recovery, and therefore escape that part of
your pain, which every man must feel, to whom you are
known as you are known to me.

' Having had no particular account of your disorder, I know
not in what state it has left you. If the amusement of my
company can exhilarate the languor of a slow recovery, I wiU
not delay a day to come to you ; for I know not how I can so
effectually promote my own pleasure as by pleading you, or
my own interest as by preserving you, in whom, if I should
lose you, I should lose almost the only man whom I call a
friend.

' Pray let me hear of you from yourself, or from dear Miss
Reynolds.! Make my compliments to Mr. Mudge. — I am,
dear sir, yonr most affectionate and most humble servant,

'Sxu. Johnson.
'At the E«v. Mr. Percy's at Easton-
Maudit, Northamptonshire (by
CasUe Ashby), Aug. 19, 1764.'

Early in the year 1765 he paid a short visit to the
University of Cambridge, with his friend Mr. Beau-
clerk. There is a lively picturesque account of his
behaviour on this visit, in the Gentleman's Magazine
for March 1785, being an extract of a letter from the
late Dr. John Sharp. The two following sentences are

1 Sir Joshua's sister, for whom Johnson had a particular affection,
and to whom he wrote many letters, which I have seen, and which 1
am sorry her too nice delicacy will not permit to be published.

14S LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1765

very characteristical : ' He drank his large potations
of tea with me, interrupted by many an indignant
contradiction and many a noble sentiment.' ' Several
persons got into his company the last evening at
Trinity, where, about twelve, he began to be very
great ; stripped poor Mrs. Macaulay to the very skin,
then gave her for his toast, and drank her in two
bumpers.'

The strictness of his self-examination, and scrupu-
lous Christian humility, appear in his pious meditation
on Easter Day this year : ' I purpose again to partake
of the blessed sacrament ; yet when I considered how
vainly I have hitherto resolved, at this annual com-
memoration of my Saviour's death, to regulate my life
by his laws, I am almost afraid to renew my resolu-
tions. '

The concluding words are very remarkable, and
show that he laboured under a severe depression of
spirits. 'Since the last Easter I have reformed no
evil habit ; my time has been unprofitably spent, and
seems as a dream that has left nothing behind. My
memory grows confused, and I know not how the days
pass over me. Good Lord, deliver me ! ' ^

No man was more gratefully sensible of any kind-
ness done to him than Johnson. There is a little
circumstance in his diary this year which shows him
in a very amiable light :

•July 2. I paid Mr. Simpson ten guineas, which he had
formerly lent me in my necessity, and for which Tetty
expressed her gratitude.'

' July 8. I lent Mr. Simpson ten guineas more.'

Prayers and Meditations, p. 6i.

^T. 56] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 149

Here he had a pleasing opportunity of doing the
same kindness to an old friend which he had formerly
received from him. Indeed, his liberality as to money
was very remarkable. The next article in his diary is :

' July 16th. I received £75. Lent Mr. Davies £25.'

Trinity College, Dublin, at this time surprised John-
son with a spontaneous compliment of the highest
academical honours by creating him Doctor of Laws.
The diploma, which is in my possession, is as follows :

'Omnibus, ad quos prsesentes literae pervenerint, salutem.
Nos, Prsepositus et Socii Seniores Collegii sacrosanctse et in-
dividuse Trinitatis Reginss Ellzabethae juxta Dublin, testamtu",
Samueli Johnson, Armigero, ob egregiam scriptorum elegan-
tiam et utilitatem, gratiam concessam fuisse pro gradu Doc-
toratiis in utroque Jxu-e, octavo die Julii, Anno Domini mil-
lesimo septingentesimo sexagesimo-quinto. In cujus rei testi-
monium singulorum manus et sigillum quo in hisce utimur
apposvdmus, vicesimo tertio die Julii, Anno Domini millesimo
septingentesimo sexagesimo-quinto.

' GuL. Clement. Fran. Andrews. E. Mubbat.

Tho, "Wilson. Frcep: Eob'"' Law.

Tho. Lelaj^d. Mich. Keabnet.'

This unsolicited mark of distinction, conferred on
so great a literary character, did much honour to the
judgment and liberal spirit of that learned body.
Johnson acknowledged the favour in a letter to Dr.
Leland, one of their number ; but I have not been
able to obtain a copy of it.^

1 [Since the publication of the edition in 1804 a copy of this letter
has been obligingly communicated to me by John Leland, Esq., son to
the learned historian to whom it is addressed :

to the rev. dr. leland

'Sir, — Among the names subscribed to the degree which I have had
the honour of receiving from the University of Dublin, I find none of

150 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1765

He appears this year to have been seized with a
temporary fit of ambition, for he had thoughts both
of studying law and of engaging in politics. His
' Prayer before the Study of Law ' is truly admirable :

'Sept. 26, 1765.
'Almighty God, the giver of wisdom, without whose help
resolutions are vain, without whose blessing study is ineffec-
tual ; enable me, if it be Thy will, to attain such knowledge
as may qualify me to direct the doubtful and instruct the
ignorant ; to prevent wrongs and terminate contentions ; and
grant that I may use that knowledge which I shall attain to
Thy glory and my own salvation, for Jesus Christ's sake.
Amen.' ^ "^

His prayer in the view of becoming a politician is

entitled, 'Engaging in Politics with H n,' — no

doubt his friend the Right Honourable William
Gerard Hamilton, for whom, during a long acquaint-
ance, he had a great esteem, and to whose conversa-
tion he once paid this high compliment ; ' I am very
unwilling to be left alone, sir, and therefore I go with
my company down the first pair of stairs, in some
hopes that they may, perhaps, return again; I go

which I have any personal knowledge but those of Dr. Andrews and
yourself.

' Men can be estimated by those who know them not, only as they
are represented by those who know them ; and therefore I flatter my-
self that I owe much of the pleasure which this distinction gives me to
your concurrence with Dr. Andrews in recommending me to the learned
society.

' Having desired the Provost to return my general thanks to the
University, I beg that you, sir, will accept my particular and im-
mediate acknowledgments. — I am, sir, your most obedient and most
humble servant, Sam. Johnson.

'Johnson's Court, Fleet Street,
London, Oct. 17, 1765.'

I have not been able to recover the letter which Johnson wrote to
Dr. Andrews on this occasion. — M.]
1 Prayers and Meditations, p. 66.

.ET. S6] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 151

with yoUj sir, as far as the street door.' In what
particular department he intended to engage does
not appear, nor can Mr. Hamilton explain. His
prayer is in general terms : 'Enlighten my under-
standing with the knowledge of right, and govern my
will by thy laws, that no deceit may mislead me nor
temptation corrupt me ; that I may always endeavour
to do good, and hinder evil.' There is nothing upon
the subject in his diary.

This year was distinguished by his being introduced
into the family of Mr. Thrale, one of the most eminent
brewers in England, and member of Parliament for
the borough of South wark. Foreigners are not a little
amazed when they hear of brewers, distillers, and men
in similar departments of trade, held forth as persons
of considerable consequence. In this great commer-
cial country it is natural that a situation which pro-
duces much wealth should be considered as very
respectable ; and, no doubt, honest industry is entitled
to esteem. But perhaps the too rapid advances of
men of low extraction tends to lessen the value of
that distinction by birth and gentility, which has ever
been found beneficial to the grand scheme of subordi-
nation. Johnson used to give this account of the rise
of Mr. Thrale's father ;

' He worked at six shillings a week ion twenty years in the
great brewery which afterwards was his own. The proprietor
of it 2 had an only daughter, who was married to a nobleman.

1 Prayers and Meditations, p. 67.

2 [The predecessor of old Thrale was Edmund Halsey, Esq. ; the
nobleman who married his daughter was Lord Cobham, great-uncle of
the Marquis of Buckingham. But I believe Dr. Johnson was mistaken
in assigning so very low an origin to Mr. Thrale. The Clerk of St.
Alban's, a very aged man, told me that he (the elder Thrale) married a

152 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1765

It was not fit that a peer should continue the business. On
the old man's death, therefore, the brewery was to be sold.
To find a purchaser for so large a property was a difficult
matter ; and, after some time, it was suggested that it would
be advisable to treat with Thrale, a sensible, active, honest
man, who had been employed in the house, and to transfer
the whole to him for £30,000 security being taken upon the
property. This was accordingly settled. In eleven years
Thrale paid the purchase-money. He acquired a large fortune,
and lived to be a member of Parliament for South war k.i But
what was most remarkable was the liberality with which
he used his riches. He gave his son and daughters the best
education. The esteem which his good conduct procured him
from the nobleman who had married his master's daughter
made him be treated with much affection ; and his son, both
at school and at the University of Oxford, associated with
young men of the first rank. His allowance from his father,
after he left college, was splendid, — not less than a thousand
a year. This, in a man who had risen as old Thrale did, was a
very extraordinary instance of generosity. He used to say,
"If this young dog does not find so much after I am gone as
he expects, let him remember that he has had a great deal in
my own time." '

The son, though in affluent circumstances, had good
sense enough to carry on his father's trade, which was
of such extent that I remember he once told me he
would not quit it for an annuity of ten thousand a
year, ' Not (said he) that I get ten thousand a year by
it, hut it is an estate to a family. ' Having left daughters

sister of Mr. Halsey. It is at least certain that the family of Thrale
was of some consideration in that town : in the abbey church is a hand-
. some monument to the memory of Mr. John Thrale, late of London,
merchant, who died in 1704, aged 54, Margaret his wife, and three of
their children, who died young between the years 1676 and 1690. The
arms upon this monument are, paly of eight, gules and or, impaling,
ermine, on a chief indented vert, three wolves' (or gryphons') heads,
or, couped at the neck : — Crest on a ducal coronet, a tree, vert, — J.
Blakeway.]

1 [In 1733 he served the office of High SheriflFfor Surrey, and died
April 9, 1758.— A. C]

^T. 56] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 153

only^ the property was sold for the immense sum of
£135,000, a magnificent proof of what may be done
by fair trade in a long period of time.

There may be some who think that a new system of
gentility^ might be established, upon principles totally
different from what have hitherto prevailed. Our
present heraldry, it may be said, is suited to the bar-
barous times in which it had its origin. It is chiefly
founded upon ferocious merit, upon military excellence.
Why, in civilised times, we may be asked, should there
not be rank and honours, upon principles which,
independent of long custom, are certainly not less
worthy, and which, when once allowed to be con-
nected with elevation and precedency, would obtain
the same dignity in our imagination.'' Why should
not the knowledge, the skill, the expertness, the
assiduity, and the spirited hazards, of trade and com-
merce, when crowned with success, be entitled to give
those flattering distinctions by which mankind are so
universally captivated }

Such are the specious, but false, arguments for a
proposition which always will find numerous advocates,
in a nation where men are every day starting up from
obscurity to wealth. To refute them is needless.
The general sense of mankind cries out, with irre-

1 Mrs. Burney informs me that she heard Dr. Johnson say, ' An
English merchant is a new species of gentleman.' He, perhaps, had in
his mind the following ingenious passage in TAe Conscious Lovers,
Act iv. Scene 2, where Mr. Sealand thus addresses Sir John Bevil :
' Give me leave to say that we merchants are a species of gentry that
have grown into the world this last century, and are as honourable, and
almost as useful, as you landed folks, that have always thought your-
selves so much above us ; for your trading, forsooth, is extended no
further than a load of hay or a fat ox. You «re pleasant people indeed 1
because ^ou are generally bred up to be lazy, therefore, I warrant yon,
industry is dishonourable.' The Conscious Lovers is by Steele.

164 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1765

sistible force, ' Un gentilhomme est toujours gentil-
homme. '

Mr. Thrale had married Miss Hesther Lynch Salus-
bury, of good Welsh extraction, a lady of lively talents,
improved by education. That Johnson's introduction
into Mr. Thrale's family, which contributed so much
to the happiness of his life, was owing to her desire
for his conversation, is a very probable and the general
supposition: but it is not the truth. Mr. Murphy,
who was intimate with Mr. Thrale, having spoken
very highly of Dr. Johnson, he was requested to make
them acquainted. This being mentioned to Johnson,
he accepted an invitation to dinner at Thrale's, and
was so much pleased with his reception, both by Mr.
and Mrs. Thrale, and they so much pleased with him,
that his invitations to their house were more and more
frequent, till at last he became one of the family, and
an apartment was appropriated to him, both in their
house at Southwark and in their villa at Streatham.

Johnson had a very sincere esteem for Mr. Thrale,
as a man of excellent principles, a good scholar, well
skilled in trade, of a sound understanding, and of
manners such as presented the character of a plain
independent English 'Squire. As this family will fre-
quently be mentioned in the course of the following
pages, and as a false notion has prevailed that Mr.
Thrale was inferior, and in some degree insignificant,
compared with Mrs. Thrale, it may be proper to give
a true state of the case from the authority of Johnson
himself in his own words.

' I know no man (said he) who is more master of
his wife and family than Thrale. If he but holds up a
finger he is obeyed. It is a great mistake to suppose

iET. 56] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 166

that she is above him in literary attainments. She is
more flippant; but he has ten times her learning:
he is a regular scholar ; but her learning is that of a
school-boy in one of the lower forms.' My readers
may naturally wish for some representation of the
figures of this couple. Mr. Thrale was tall^ well-
proportioned, and stately. As for Madam, or my
Mistress, by which epithets Johnson used to mention
Mrs, Thrale, she was short, plump, and brisk. She
has herself given us a lively view of the idea which
Johnson had of her person, on her appearing before
him in a dark-coloured gown : ' You little creatures
should never wear those sort of clothes, however ;
they are unsuitable in every way. WTiat ! have not
all insects gay colours ? ' ^ Mr. Thrale gave his wife a
liberal indulgence, both in the choice of their com-
pany, and in the mode of entertaining them. He
understood and valued Johnson, without remission,
from their first acquaintance to the day of his death.
Mrs. Thrale was enchanted with Johnson's conversa-
tion for its own sake, and had also a very allowable
vanity in appearing to be honoured with the attention
of so celebrated a man.

Nothing could be more fortunate for Johnson than
this connection. He had at Mi*. Thrale's all the
comforts, and even luxuries, of life ; his melancholy
was diverted, and his irregular habits lessened by
association with an agreeable and well-ordered family.
He was treated with the utmost respect, and even
affection. The vivacity of Mrs. Thrale's literary talk
roused him to cheerfulness and exertion, even when

* Mrs. Piozzi's Anecdotes, p. 379.

166 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1765

they were alone. But this was not often the case;
for he found here a constant succession of what gave
him the highest enjoyment, the society of the learned,
the witty, and the eminent in every way, who were
assembled in numerous companies, called forth his
wonderful powers, and gratified him with admiration,
to which no man could be insensible.

In the October of this year ^ he at length gave to
the world his edition of Shakespeare, which, if it had
no other merit but that of producing his Preface, La
which the excellencies and defects of that immortal
bard are displayed with a masterly hand, the nation
would have had no reason to complain. A blind, in-
discriminate admiration of Shakespeare had exposed
the British nation to the ridicule of foreigners.
Johnson, by candidly admitting the faults of his poet,
had the more credit in bestowing on him deserved
and indisputable praise ; and doubtless none of all his
panegyrists have done him half so much honour.
Their praise was like that of a counsel, upon his own
side of the cause ; Johnson's was like the grave, well-
considered, and impartial opinion of the judge, which
falls from his lips with weight, and is received with
reverence. What he did as a commentator has no

1 [From a letter written by Dr. Johnson to Dr. Joseph Warton, the
day after the publication of his Shakespeare, Oct. 9, 1765 (see Wool's
Memoirs of Dr. iVarion, 4to, 1S06), it appears that Johnson spent
some time with that gentleman at Winchester in this year. In a letter
written by Dr. Warton to Mr. Thomas Warton, not long afterwards
(January 28, 1766), is a paragraph which may throw some light on
various passages in Dr. Warton's edition of Pope, relative to Johnson :
— ' I only dined with Johnson, who seemed cold and indifferent, and
scarce said anything to me : perhaps he has heard what I said of his
Shakespeare, or rather was offended at what I wrote to him : — as he
pleases.' The letter here alluded to, it is believed, has not been pre-
served ; at least it does not appear in the collection above referred to.
— M.]

^T. 56] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 167

small share of merits though his researches were not
so ample, and his investigations so acute as they might
have been, which we now certainly know from the
labours of other able and ingenious critics who have
followed him. He has enriched his edition with a
concise account of each play, and of its characteristic
excellence. Many of his notes have illustrated ob-
scurities in the text, and placed passages eminent for
beauty in a more conspicuous light; and he has in
general exhibited such a mode of annotation as may
be beneficial to aU subsequent editors.

His Shakespeare was virulently attacked by Mr.
William Kenrick, who obtained the degree of LL.D.
from a Scotch University, and wrote for the book-
sellers in a great variety of branches. Though he
certainly was not without considerable merit, he wrote
with so little regard to decency, and principles, and
decorum, and in so hasty a manner, that his reputa-
tion was neither extensive nor lasting. I remember
one evening, when some of his works were mentioned.
Dr. Goldsmith said he had never heard of them ; upon
which Dr. Johnson observed, ' Sir, he is one of the
many wlio have made themselves public, without
making themselves known.'

A young student of Oxford, of the name of Barclay,
wrote an answer to Kenrick's review of Johnson's
Shakespeare. Johnson was at first angry that Ken-
rick's attack should have the credit of an answer.
But afterwards, considering the young man's good in-
tention, he kindly noticed him, and probably would
have done more had not the young man died.

In his Preface to Shakespeare, Johnson treated
Voltaire very contemptuously, observing, upon some

168 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1765

of his remarks, ' These are the petty cavils of petty
minds.' Voltaire, in revenge, made an attack upon
Johnson in one of his numerous literary sallies, which
I remember to have read ; but there being no general
index to his voluminous works, I have searched in
vain, and therefore cannot quote it.^

Voltaire was an antagonist with whom I thought
Johnson should not disdain to contend. I pressed
him to answer. He said he perhaps might; but he
never did.

Mr. Burney having occasion to write to Johnson
for some receipts for subscriptions to his Shakespeare,
which Johnson had omitted to deliver when the money
was paid, he availed himself of that opportunity of
thanking Johnson for the great pleasure which he had
received from the perusal of his Preface to Shakespeare ;
which, although it excited much clamour against him
at first, is now justly ranked among the most excellent
of his writings. To this letter Johnson returned the
following answer :

TO CHABliES BURNEY, ESQ., IN POLAND STREET

*SiR, — I am sorry that your kindness to me has brought
upon you so much trouble, though you have taken care to
abate that sorrow by the pleasure which I receive from yoiu-
approbation. I defend my criticism in the same manner with
you. "VVe must confess the faults of our favourite, to gain
credit to our praise of his excellencies. He that claims, either

1 [Sec Dictionnaire Philosophique under title Art Dramatiqut du
Tkl&tre Anglais: 'J'aijeti les yeux sur une Edition de Shakespeare
donn^e par le Sieur Johnson. . . . Je ne veux point soupcjonner le Sieur
Johnson d'etre un mauvais plaisant, et d'aimer trop le vin, mais je
trouve un peu extraordinaire qu'il compte la bouffonnerie et I'ivrognerie
parmi les beaut^s du theatre tragique.' — A. B.]

>ET. 56] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 169

in himself or for another, the honours of perfection, will
surely injure the reputation which he designs to assist.

'Be pleased to make my compliments to your family. — I
am, sir, your most obliged and most humble servant,

'Sam. Johnson.

'Oct. 16, 1765.'

From one of his journals I transcribe what fol-
lows : —

'At church, Oct, — 65.

' To avoid all singularity ; Bonaventura.^

' To come in before service, and compose my mind by medi-
tation, or by reading some portions of Scripture. Tetty.

' If I can hear the sermon, to attend it, imless attention be
more troublesome than useful.

' To consider the act of prayer as a reposal of myself upon
God, and a resignation of all into his holy hand.'

In 1764 and 1765 it should seem that Dr. Johnson
was so busily employed with his edition of Shakespeare
as to have had little leisure for any other literary exer-
tion^ or, indeed, even for private correspondence. He
did not favour me with a single letter for more than
two years, for which it will appear that he afterward
apologised.

He was, however, at all times ready to give assist-
ance to his friends, and others, in revising their works,
and in writing for them, or greatly improving, their
Dedications. In that courtly species of composition
no man excelled Dr. Johnson. Though the loftiness
of his mind prevented him from ever dedicating in his
own person, he wrote a very great number of Dedica-
tions for others. Some of these, the persons who

1 He was probably proposing to himself the model of this excellent
person, who for his piety was named ' The Seraphic Doctor.'

160 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1765

were favoured with them are unwilling should be
mentioned, from a too anxious apprehension, as I
think, that they might be suspected of having received
larger assistance ; and some, after all the diligence I
have bestowed, have escaped my inquiries. He told
me, a great many years ago, 'he believed he had
dedicated to all the Royal Family round ' ; and it was
indifferent to him what was the subject jof the work
dedicated, provided it were innocent He once dedi-
cated some Music for the German Flute to Edward,
Duke of York. In writing Dedications for others, he
considered himself as by no means speaking his own
sentiments.

Notwithstanding his long silence, I never omitted
to write to him, when I had anything worthy of com-
municating. I generally kept copies of my letters to
him, that I might have a full view of our correspond-
ence, and never be at a loss to understand any refer-
ence in his letters. He kept the greater part of mine
very carefully ; and a short time before his death was
attentive enough to seal them up in bundles, and order
them to be delivered to me, which was accordingly
done. Amongst them I found one, of which I had
not made a copy, and which I own I read with pleasure
at the distance of almost twenty years. It is dated
November 1765, at the palace of Pascal de Paoli, in
Corte, the capital of Corsica, and is full of generous
enthusiasm. After giving a sketch of what I had
seen and heard in that island, it proceeded thus : ' I
dare to call this a spirited tour. I dare to challenge
your approbation.'

This letter produced the following answer, which I
found on my arrival at Paris :

^T. 56] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 161

A MB. MB. BOSWEhL, CHEZ MB. WATEBS^ BANQUIEB
A FABIS

'Dear Sib, — Apologies are seldom of any use. We will
delay till your arrival the reasons, good or bad, which have
made me such a sparing and ungrateful correspondent. Be
assured, for the present, that nothing has lessened either the
esteem or love with which I dismissed you at Harwich. Both
have been increased by all that I have been told of you by
yourself or others ; and when you return you wiU return ta
an unaltered, and, I hope, unalterable friend.

'All that you have to fear from me is the vexation of dis-
appointing me. No man loves to frustrate expectations which
have been formed in his favour; and the pleasure which I
promise myself from your journals and remarks is so great,
that perhaps no degree of attention or discernment will be
sufficient to afford it.

'Come home, however, and take your chance. I long to
see you, and to hear you ; and hope that we shall not be so
long separated again. Come home, and expect such wel-
<Jbme as is due to him whom a wise and noble curiosity
has led where perhaps no native of this coimtry ever was
before.

' I have no news to tell you that can deserve your notice,
nor would I willingly lessen the pleasure that any novelty
may give you at your return. I am afraid we shall find it
difficult to keep among us a mind which has been so long
feasted with variety. But let us try what esteem and kind-
ness can effect.

' As your father's liberality has indulged you with so long a
ramble, I doubt not but you will think his sickness, or even
his desire to see you, a sufficient reason for hastening your
return. The longer we live, and the more we think, the higher
value we learn to put on the friendship and tenderness of
parents and of friends. Parents we can have but once : and
he promises himself too much who enters life with the expec-
tation of finding many friends. Upon some motive, I hope
that you will be here soon ; and am willing to think that it

VOL. II. L

162 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1766

vrill be an inducement to your return, that it is sincerely
■desired by, dear sir, your affectionate humble servant,

' Sam. Johnson.
Joh/MorCs Court, Fleet Street,
January 14, 1766.'

I returned to London in February, and foirnd Dr.
Johnson in a good Louse in Johnson's Court, Fleet
Street, in which he had accommodated Miss Williams
with an apartment on the ground-floor, while Mr.
Levet occupied his post in the garret : his faithful
Francis was still attending upon him. He received
me with much kindness. The fragments of our first
conversation, which I have preserved, are these : I
told him that Voltaire, in a conversation with me, had
distinguished Pope and Dryden thus : — ' Pope drives
a handsome chariot, with a couple of neat trim nags ;
Dryden a coach, and six stately horses ! ' Johnson :
*Why, sir, the truth is, they both drive coaches and
six ; but Dryden's horses are either galloping or
stumbling: Pope's go at a steady, even trot.'^ He
said of Goldsmith's ^Traveller,' which had been pub-
lished in my absence, ' There has not been so fine a
poem since Pope's time. '

And here it is proper to settle, with authentic pre-
cision, what has long floated in public report, as to
Johnson's being himself the author of a considerable
part of that poem. Much, no doubt, both of the

_ 1 It is remarkable that Mr. Gray has employed somewhat the same
•image to characterise Dryden. He, indeed, furnishes his car with but
■iwo horses ; but they are of ' ethereal race ' :

' Behold where Dryden's less presumptuous car,
Wide o'er the fields of glory bear
Two coursers of ethereal race,

With necks in thunder clothed, and long resounding pace.'
Ode on the Progress of Poesy.

^T. 57] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 1G3

sentiments and expression, were derived from conver-
sation with him ; and it was certainly submitted to his
friendly revision : but in the year 1783, he, at my
request, marked with a pencil the lines which he had
furnished, which are only line 420th,

'To stop too fearful, and too faint to go' ;

and the concluding ten lines, except the last couplet
but one, which I distinguish by the Italic character :

' How small of all that human hearts endure,
That part which kings or laws can cause or cure.
Still to ourselves in every place consign' d.
Our own felicity we make or find ;
With secret course, which no loud storms annoy.
Glides the smooth current of domestic joy :
The lifted axe, the agonising wheel,
LuTc^s iron crown, and Da/mien's bed of steel.
To men remote from power, but rarely known.
Leave reason, faith, and conscience all our own.'

He added, 'These are all of which I can be sure.'
They bear a small proportion to the whole, which
consists of four hundred and thirty-eight verses.
Goldsmith, in the couplet which he inserted, mentions
Luke as a person well known, and superficial readers
have passed it over quite smoothly ; while those of
more attention have been as much perplexed by Luke
as by Lydiat, in The Vanity of Human Wishes. The
truth is, that Goldsmith himself was in a mistake. In
the Respublica Hungarica there is an account of a
desperate rebellion in the year 1514, headed by two
brothers of the name of Zeck,^ George and Luke.

1 [Their real name was Dosa. Zeck signifies that they were Zecklers
or Szeklers, one of the native races of Transylvania. — A. B.]

164 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1766

^Vlien it was quelled^ George, not Luke, was punished
by his head being encircled with a red-hot iron crown :
'corona candescente ferrea coronatur.' The same
severity of torture was exercised on the Earl of Athol,
one of the murderers of King James i. of Scotland.

Dr. Johnson at the same time favoured me by
marking the lines which he furnished to Goldsmith's
* Deserted Village^' which are only the last four :

'That trade's proud empire hastes to swift decay,
As ocean sweeps the labour'd mole away :
"VVliile self-dependent power can time defy,
As rocks resist the billows and the sky.'

Talking of education, 'People have now-a-days
(said he) got a strange opinion that everything should
be taught by lectures. Now, I cannot see that lectures
can do so much good as reading the books from which
the lectures are taken. I know nothing that can be
best taught by lectures, except where experiments are
to be shown. You may teach chemistry by lectures.
— ^You might teach making of shoes by lectures ! ' ^

At night I supped with him at the Mitre tavern,
that we might renew our social intimacy at the original
place of meeting. But there was now a considerable
difference in his way of living. Having had an illness,
in which he was advised to leave off wine, he had,
from that period, continued to abstain from it, and
drank only water, or lemonade.

I told him that a foreign friend of his, whom I had
met with abroad, was so wretchedly perverted to
infidelity that he treated the hopes of immortality
with brutal levity, and said, ' As man dies like a dog,

1 [Lecturers are very fond of this quotation — but they go on lecturing
all the same. —A. B.]

^T. 57] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 166

let him lie like a dog.' Johnson : 'Ifhe dies like a
dog, let him lie like a dog.' I added, that this man
said to me, ' I hate mankind, for I think myself one
of the best of them, and I know how bad I am.'
Johnson : ' Sir, he must be very singular in his
opinion, if he thinks himself one of the best of men ;
for none of his friends think him so.' He said, 'No
honest man could be a Deist ; for no man could be so
after a fair examination of the proofs of Christianity.*
I named Hume. Johnson : ' No, sir ; Hume owned
to a clergyman in the bishopric of Durham that he
had never read the New Testament with attention.'
I mentioned Hume's notion, that all who are happy
are equally happy ; a little miss with a new gown at
a dancing-school ball, a general at the head of a
victorious army, and an orator, after having made an
eloquent speech in a great assembly. Johnson : ' Sir,
that all who are happy are equally happy is not true.
A peasant and a philosopher may be equally satisfied,
but not equally happy. Happiness consists in the
multiplicity of agreeable consciousness. A peasant
has not capacity for having equal happiness with a
philosopher.' I remember this very question very
happily illustrated in opposition to Hume, by the
Reverend Mr. Robert Brown, at Utrecht 'A small
drinking-glass and a large one (said he) may be
equally full ; but the large one holds more than the
small.' ^

Dr. Johnson was very kind this evening, and said
to me, * You have now lived five-and-twenty years,

1 [Bbhop Hall, in discussing this subject, has the same image : ' Yet
so conceive of these heavenly degrees that the least is glorious. So do
these vessels differ that all are full' — Epistles, Dec. iii. cp. 6. 'Of
the different degrees of heavenly glory,' etc. — M.]

166 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1766

and you have employed them well,' 'Alas, sir (said
I), I fear not. Do I know history ? Do I know
mathematics ? Do I know law ? ' Johnson : ' VVTiy,
sir, though you may know no science so well as to be
able to teach it, and no profession so well as to be able
to follow it, your general mass of knowledge of books
and men renders you very capable to make yourself
master of any science or fit yourself for any profes-
sion.* I mentioned that a gay friend had advised me
against being a lawyer, because I should be excelled
by plodding blockheads. Johnson : ' Why, sir, in
the formulary and statutory part of law a plodding
blockhead may excel ; but in the ingenious and rational
part of it a plodding blockhead can never excel. '

I talked of the mode adopted by some to rise in the
world, by courting great men, and asked him whether
he had ever submitted to it. Johnson : ' Why, sir,
I never was near enough to great men to court them.
You may be prudently attached to great men, and yet
independent. You are not to do what you think
wrong; and, sir, you are to calculate, and not pay
too dear for what you get. You must not give a
shilling's worth of court for sixpence worth of good.
But if you can get a shilling's worth of good for six-
pence worth of court, you are a fool if you do not
pay court'

He said, ' If convents should be allowed at all, they
should only be retreats for persons unable to serve the
public, or who have served it. It is our first duty to
serve society ; and, after we have done that, we may
attend wholly to the salvation of our own souls. A
youthful passion for abstracted devotion should not
be encouraged.'

iET. 57] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 167

I introduced the subject of second-sight^ and other
mysterious manifestations, the fulfilment of which, I
suggested, might happen by chance. Johnson : ' Yes,
sir, but they have happened so often that mankind
have agreed to think them not fortuitous.'

I talked to him a great deal of what I had seen in
Corsica, and of my intention to publish an account of
it. He encouraged me by saying, * You cannot go to
the bottom of the subject ; but all that you tell us will
be new to us. Give us as many anecdotes as you can.*

Our next meeting at the Mitre was on Saturday the
15th of February, when I presented to him my old
and most intimate friend the Reverend Mr. Temple,
then of Cambridge. I having mentioned that I had
passed some time with Rousseau in his wild retreat,
and having quoted some remark made by Mr. Wilkes,
with whom I had spent many pleasant hours ia Italy,
Johnson said (sarcastically), ' It seems, sir, you have
kept very good company abroad, Rousseau and Wilkes!'
Thinking it enough to defend one at a time, I said
nothing as to my gay friend, but answered with a
smile, *My dear sir, you don't call Rousseau bad
company. Do you really think him a bad man ? *
Johnson : ' Sir, if you are talking jestingly of this,
I don't talk with you. If you mean to be serious, I
think him one of the worst of men ; a rascal, who
ought to be hunted out of society, as he has been.
Three or four nations have expelled him ; and it is a
shame that he is protected in this country.' Boswell:
'I don't deny, sir, but that his novel may, perhaps,
do barm ; but I cannot think his intention was bad.'
Johnson : ' Sir, that will not do. We cannot prove
any man's intention to be bad. You may shoot a maa

168 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1766

through the head and say you intended to miss him ;
but the judge will order you to be hanged. An
alleged want of intention, when evil is committed, will
not be allowed in a court of justice. Rousseau, sir,
is a very bad man. I would sooner sign a sentence
for his transportation than that of any felon who has
gone from the Old Bailey these many years. Yes,
I should like to have him work in the plantations.'
BoswELL : * Sir, do you think him as bad a man as
Voltaire .'' ' Johnson : ' Why, sir, it is difficult to
settle the proportion of iniquity between them.'

This violence seemed very strange to me, who had
read many of Rousseau's animated writings with great
pleasure, and even edification ; had been much pleased
with his society, and was just come from the Continent,
where he was very generally admired. Nor can I yet
allow that he deserves the very severe censure which
Johnson pronounced upon him. His absurd prefer-
ence of savage to civilised life, and other singularities,
are proofs rather of a defect in his understanding than
of any depravity in his heart. And notwithstanding
the unfavourable opinion which many worthy men
have expressed of his Profession de Foi du Vicaire
Savoyard, I cannot help admiring it as the perform-
ance of a man full of sincere reverential submission
to Divine Mystery, though beset with perplexing
doubts : a state of mind to be viewed with pity rather
than with anger.

On his favourite subject of subordination, Johnson
said, '^So far is it from being true that men are
naturally equal, that no two people can be half an
hour together but one shall acquire an evident
superiority over the other.'

«T. 57] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 169

I mentioned the advice given us by philosophers,
to console ourselves, when distressed or embarrassed,
by thinking of those who are in a worse situation than
ourselves. This, J observed, could not apply to all,
for there must be some who have nobody worse than
they are. Johnson : * Why, to be sure, sir, there
are ; but they don't know it. There is no being so
poor and so contemptible, who does not think there is
somebody still poorer and still more contemptible.'

As my stay in London at this time was very short,
I had not many opportunities of being with Dr.
Johnson ; but I felt my veneration for him in no
degree lessened by my having seen multorum hominum
mores et urhes. On the contrary, by having it in my
power to compare him with many of the most cele-
brated persons of other countries, my admiration of
his extraordinary mind was increased and confirmed.

The roughness, indeed, which sometimes appeared
in his manners was more striking to me now, from my
having been accustomed to the studied smooth com-
plying habits of the Continent ; and I clearly recog-
nised in him, not without respect for his honest
conscientious zeal, the same indignant and sarcastical
mode of treating every attempt to unhinge or weaken
good principles.

One evening, when a young gentleman teased him
with an account of the infidelity of his servant, who,
he said, would not believe the Scriptures, because he
could not read them in the original tongues, and be
sure that they were not invented : — ' Why, foolish
fellow (said Johnson), has he any better authority
for almost everything that he believes ? ' Boswell :
*Then the vulgar, sir, never can know they are right.

170 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1766

but must submit themselves to the learned.' Johnson :
' To be sure, sir. The vulgar are the children of the
State, and must be taught like children.' Boswell :
'Then, sir, a poor Turk must be a Mahometan, just as
a poor Englishman must be a Christian ? ' Johnson :
'Why, yes, sir; and what then? This now is such
stuff as I used to talk to my mother, when I first began
to think myself a clever fellow ; and she ought to
have whipped me for it.'

Another evening Dr. Goldsmith and I called on
him, with the hope of prevailing on him to sup with
us at the Mitre. We found him indisposed, and re-
solved not to go abroad. ' Come, then (said Gold-
smith), we will not go to the Mitre to-night, since we
cannot have the big man with us.' Johnson then
called for a bottle of port, of which Goldsmith and I
partook, while our friend, now a water-drinker, sat by
us. Goldsmith : ' I think, Mr. Johnson, you don't
go near the theatres now. You give yourself no more
concern about a new play than if you had never had
anything to do with the stage.' Johnson : ' Why,
sir, our tastes greatly alter. The lad does not care
for the child's rattle, and the old man does not care
for the young man's whore.' Goij)Smith : 'Nay, sir ;
but your Muse was not a whore.* Johnson: 'Sir, I
do not think she was. But as we advance in the
journey of life we drop some of the things which have
pleased us ; whether it be that we are fatigued, and
don't choose to carry so many things any farther,
or that we find other things which we like better.'
Boswell : ' But, sir, why don't you give us something
in some other way ? ' Goldsmith : ' Ay, sir, we have
a claim upon you.' Johnson : ' No, sir, I am not

JET.S7] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 171

obliged to do any more. No man is obliged to do as
much as he can do. A man is to have part of his
life to himself. If a soldier has fought a good many
campaigns, he is not to be blamed if he retires to ease
and tranquillity. A physician, who has practised long
in a great city, may be excused if he retires to a small
town and takes less practice. Now, sir, the good I
can do by my conversation bears the same proportion
to the good I can do by my writings that the practice
of a physician, retired to a small town, does to his
practice in a great city.' Boswell: 'But I wonder,
sir, you have not more pleasure in writing than in not
writing.' Johnson : 'Sir, you may wonder.'

He talked of making verses, and observed, 'The
great difficulty is, to know when you have made good
ones. When composing, I have generally had them
in my mind, perhaps fifty at a time, walking up and
down in my room ; and then I have written them
down, and often, from laziness, have written only half
lines. I have written a hundred lines in a day. I
remember I wrote a hundred lines of " The Vanity of
Human Wishes " in a day. Doctor (turning to Gold-
smith), I am not quite idle ; I made one line t'other
day ; but I made no more.' Goldsmith : ' Let us
hear it; we'll put a bad one to it.' Johnson: 'No,
sir ; I have forgot it.'

Such specimens of the easy and playful conversation
of the great Dr. Samuel Johnson are, I think, to be
prized, as exhibiting the little varieties of a mind so
enlarged and so powerful when objects of consequence
required its exertions, and as giving us a minute
knowledge of his character and modes of thinking.

172 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1766

TO BENNET LANQTON, ESQ., AT LANGTON, NEAR SPILSBY,
LIXCOLNSHIBE

'Dear Sib, — What your friends have done, that from your
departure till now nothing has been heard of you, none of us
are able to inform the rest ; but as we are all neglected alike,
no one thinks himself entitled to the privilege of complaint.

' I should have known nothing of you or of Langton, from
the time that dear Miss Langton left us. had not I met IMr.
Simpson, of Lincoln, one day in the street, by whom I was
informed that Mr. Langton, your mamma, and yourself, had
been all ill, but that you were all recovered.

'That sickness should siispend your correspondence I did
not wonder, but hoped that it would be renewed at 3'our
recovery.

' Since you will not inform us where you are, or how you
live, I know not whether you desire to know anything of us.
However, I will teU. you that the Club subsists ; but we have
the loss of Burke's company since he has been engaged in
public business, in which he has gained more reputation than
perhaps any man at his [first] appearance ever gained before.
He made two speeches in the House for repealing the Stamp
Act, which were publicly commended by Mr. Pitt, and have
filled the town with wonder.

' Burke is a great man by nature, and is expected soon to
attain civil greatness. I am grown greater too, for I have
maintained the newspapers these many weeks ; and, what is
greater still, I have risen every morning since New Year's
Day at about eight : when I was up I have indeed done but
little ; yet it is no slight advancement to obtain for so many
hours more the consciousness of being.

' I wish you were in my new study ; I am now writing the
first letter in it. I think it looks very pretty about me.

' Dyer 1 is constant at the Club ; Hawkins is remiss ; I am

1 [Samuel Dyer, Esq., a most learned and ingenious member of the
Literary Club, for whose understanding and attainments Dr. Johnson
had great respect. He died Sept. 14, 1772. A more particular account
of this gentleman may be found in a Note on the Life of Dryden,
p. 186, prefixed to the edition of that great writer's prose works, in four
volumes 8vo, 1800, in which his character is vindicated, andthe very
unfavourable representation of it given by Sir John Hawkins in his
Li/c of Johnson^ pp. 222-232, is minutely examined. — M.]

MT.S7] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 173

not over diligent. Dr. Nugent, Dr. Goldsmith, and Mr.
Eeynolds are very constant. Mr. Lye is printing liis Saxon
and Gothic Dictionary ; all the Club subscribes.

' You will pay my respects to all my Lincolnshire friends.—
I am, dear sir, most afiEectionately yours, Sam. Johnson.
'March 9, 1766,

'Johnson's Cowrt, Fleet Street.'

TO BENNET LANGTON, ESQ., AT LANGTON, NEAR SPILSBY,
LINCOLNSHIRE

*Deab Sib, — In supposing that I should be more than com-
monly affected by the death of Peregrine Langton,i you were
not mistaken ; he was one of those whom I loved at once by
instinct and by reason. I have seldom indulged more hope of
anything than of being able to improve our acquaintance to
friendship. Many a time have I placed myself again at
Langton, and imagined the pleasure with which I should walk
to Partney 2 in a summer morning ; but this is no longer pos-
sible. We must now endeavour to preserve what is left us, —
his example of piety and economy. I hope you make what
inquiries you can, and write down what is told you. The
little things which distinguish domestic characters are soon
forgotten : if you delay to inquire you will have no informa-
tion ; if you neglect to write, information will be vain.3

1 Mr. Langton's uncle.

2 The place of residence of Mr. Pereg;rlne Langton.

3 Mr. Langton did not disregard this counsel, but wrote the follow-
ing account, which he has been pleased to communicate to me : —

' The circumstances of Mr. Peregrine Langton were these. He had
an annuity for life of two hundred pounds per annum. He resided in
a village in Lincolnshire : the rent of his house, with two or three small
fields, was twenty-eight pounds ; the county he lived in was not more
than moderately cheap : his family consisted of a sister, who paid him
eighteen pounds annually for her board, and a niece. The servants
were two maids, and two men in livery. His common way of living at
his table was three or four dishes ; the appurtenances to his table were
neat and handsome : he frequently entertained company at dinner, and
then his table was well served with as many dishes as were usual at the
tables of the other gentlemen in the neighbourhood. His own appear-
ance as to clothes was genteelly neat and plain. He bad always a
post-chaise, and kept three horses.

' Such, with the resources I have mentioned, was his way of living,
which he did not suffer to employ bis whole income ; for he had always

174 LIFE OF DR, JOHNSON [1766

' His art of life certainly deserves to be known and studied.
He lived in plenty and elegance upon an income which to
many would appear indigent, and to most scanty. How he
lived, therefore, every man has an interest in knowing. His
death, I hope, was peaceful ; it was surely happy.

' I wish I had written sooner, lest, writing now, I should
renew your grief ; but I would not forbear saying what I have
now said.

' This loss is, I hope, the only misfortune of a family to
whom no misfortune at all should happen, if my wishes could
avert it. Let me know how you all go on. Has Mr. Langton
got him the little horse that I recommended ? It would do
him good to ride about his estate in fine weather.

a sum of money lying by him for any extraordinary expenses that
might arise. Some money he put into the stocks ; at his death the
sum he had there amounted to one hundred and fifty pounds. He pur-
chased out of his income his household furniture and linen, of which
latter he had a very ample store : and, as I am assured by those that had
very good means of knowing, not less than the tenth part of his income
was set apart for charity ; at the time of his death the sum of twenty-
five pounds was found, with a direction to be employed in such uses.

' He had laid down a plan of living proportioned to his income, and
did not practise any extraordinary degree of parsimony, but endeav-
oured that in his family there should be plenty without waste. As an
instance that this was his endeavour it may be worth while to mention
a method he took in regulating a proper allowance of malt liquor to be
drunk in his family, that there might not be a deficiency or any intem-
perate profusion. On a complaint made that his allowance of a hogs-
head in a month was not enough for his own family, he ordered the
quantity of a hogshead to be put into bottles, had it locked up from
the servants, and distributed out, every day, eight quarts, which is the
quantity each day at one hogshead in a month ; and told his servants
that if that did not suffice he would allow them more ; but by this
method it appeared at once that the allowance was much more than
sufficient for his small family ; and this proved a clear conviction, that
could not be answered, and saved all future dispute. He was in general
very diligently and punctually attended and obeyed by his servants ;
he was very considerate as to the injunctions he gave, and explained
them distinctly ; and at their first coming to his service steadily exacted
a close compliance with them, without any remission : and the servants
finding this to be the case, soon grew habitually accustomed to the
practice of their business, and then very little further attention was
necessary. On extraordinary instances of good behaviour or diligent
service he was not wanting in particular encouragements and presents
above their wages : it is remarkable that he would permit their relations
to visit them, and stay at his house two or three days at a time.

' The wonder with most that hear an account of his economy will be
how he was able, with such an income, to do so much, especially when
it is considered that he paid for everything he had. He had no land,

JET.S7] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 175

' Be pleased to make my compliments to Mrs. Langton, and
to dear Miss Langton, and Miss Di, and Miss Juliet, and to
everybody else.

' The Club holds very well together. Monday is my night. ^
I continue to rise tolerably well, and read more than I did.
I hope something will yet come on it. — I am, sir, your most
affectionate servant, Sam. Johksok.

'May 10, 1766,

^Johnson's Court, Fleet Street.'

After I had been some time in Scotland I mentioned
to him in a letter that ' on my first return to my

except the two or three small fields which I have said he rented ; and,
instead of gaining anything by their produce, I have reason to think
he lost by them ; however, they furnished him with no further assist-
ance towards his housekeeping than grass for his horses (not hay, for
that 1 know he bought) and for two cows. Every Monday morning he
settled his family accounts, and so kept up a constant attention to the
confining his expenses within his income ; and to do it more exactly,
compared those expenses with a computation he had made how much
that income would afford him every week and day of the year. One of
his economical practices was, as soon as any repair was wanting in or
about his house, to have it inmiediately performed. When he had
money to spare he chose to lay in a provision of linen or clothes, or any
other necessaries ; as then, he said, he could afford it, which he might
not be so well able to do when the actual want came ; in consequence
of which method_ he had a considerable supply of necessary articles
lying by him, beside what was in use.

' But the main particular that seems to have enabled him to do so
much with his income, was that he paid for everything as soon as he had
it, except alone what were current accounts, such as rent for his house
and servants' wages, and these he paid at the stated times with the
utmost exactness. He gave notice to the tradesmen of the neighbour-
ing market towns that they should no longer have his custom if they
let any of his servants have anything without their paying for it.
Thus he put it out of his power to commit those imprudences to which
those are liable that defer their payments by using their money some
other way than where it ought to go. And whatever money he had by
him he knew that it was not demanded elsewhere, but that he might
safely employ it as he pleased.

' His example was confined, by the sequestered place of his abode,
to the observation of few, though his prudence and virtue would have
made it valuable to all who could have known it. These few par-
ticulars, which I knew myself, or have obtained from those who lived
with him, may afford instruction, and be an incentive to that wise
art of living, which he so successfully practised.'

1 Of his being in the chair of the Literary Club, which at this time
met once a week in the evening.

176 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1766

native country, after some years of absence, I was
told of a vast number of my acquaintance who were
all gone to the land of forgetfulness, and I found my-
self like a man stalking over a field of battle, who
every moment perceives some one lying dead.' I
complained of irresolution, and mentioned my having
made a vow as a security for good conduct. I wrote
to him again without being able to move his indolence ;
nor did I hear from him till he had received a copy of
my inaugural exercise, or Thesis in Civil Law, which
I published at my admission as an advocate, as is the
custom in Scotland. He then wrote to me as follows •

TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

' Deab Sie, — The reception of your Thesis put me in mind
of my debt to you. Why did you . . A I will punish you
for it, by telling you that your Latin wants correction.^ In
the beginning, Spei aUerce, not to urge that it should be primce,
is not grammatical : aiterce should be alteri. In the next line
you seem to use genus absolutely, for what we call family,
that is, for illustrious extraction, I doubt without authority.
Homines nuttius originis, for NvUis orti majoribus, or,

1 The passage omitted alluded to a private transaction.

2 This censure of my Latin relates to the Dedication, which was as
follows : —

VIRO NOBILISSIMO, ORNATISSIMO,

JOANNI
VICECOMITI MOUNTSTUART,

ATAVIS EDITO REGIBUS,

EXCBLSiE FAMILI^ DE BOTE SPEI ALTERA ;

LABENTE SECULO,

QUUM HOMINES NULLIUS ORIGINIS

GENUS /EQUARE OPIBUS AGGREDIUNTUR,

SANGUINIS ANTIQUI ET ILLUSTRIS

SEMPER MEMORI,

NATALIUM SPLENDOREM VIRTUTIBUS AUGENTI :

AD PUBLICA POPULI COMITIA

JAM LEGATO ;

IN OPTIMATIUM VERO MAGN^E BRITANNIiE SENATO,

JURE H^REDITARIO,

^T. 57] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 177

If^tUlo loco nati, is, as I am afraid, barbarous. — Ruddiman i»
dead.

' I have now vexed you enough, and will try to please you.
Your resolution to obey your father I sincerely approve ; but
do not accustom yourself to enchain your volatility by vows ;
they will sometime leave a thorn in your mind, which you
will, perhaps, never be able to extract or eject. Take this
warning ; it is of great importance.

' The study of the law is what you very justly term it,
copious and generous : i and in adding your name to its pro-
fessors you have done exactly what I always wished, when I
wished you best. I hope that you will continue to pursue it
vigorously and constantly. You gain, at least, what is no
small advantage, security from those troublesome and weari-
some discontents, which are always obtruding themselves upon
a mind vacant, unemployed, and undetermined.

'You ought to think it no small inducement to diligence
and perseverance, that they will please your father. We all
live upon the hope of pleasing somebody ; and the pleasure
of pleasing ought to be greatest, and at last always will be
greatest, when our endeavours are exerted in consequence of
our duty.

* Life is not long, and too much of it must not pass in idle
deliberation how it shall be spent : deliberation, which those
who begin it by prudence, and continue it with subtUty, must,
after long expense of thought, conclude by chance. To prefer

OLIM CONCESSURO !

VIM INSITAM VARIA DOCTRINA PROMOVENTE,

NEC TAMEN SE VENDITANTE I

PR/EDITO

FKISCA FIDE, ANIMO LIBERRIMO,

ET MORUM KLEGANTIA

INSIGNI :

IN ITALI.* VISITAND^ ITINERE,

SOCIO SUO HONORATISSIMO,

HASCE JURISPRUDENTIiE PRIMITIAS,

DEVINCTISSIM^ AMICITI^ ET OBSERVANTIiG

MONUMENTUM,

D. D. C. Q.

JACOBUS BOSWELL.
1 This alludes to the first sentence of the Proaimiitm of my Thesis.
Jurisprudentiae studio nullum uberius, nullum generosius: in legibus
enim agitandis, populorum mores variasqut fortuna vices, ex quibus
Uges oriuniur, contemplari simul solemus.'

VOL. II. M

178 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1766

•one future mode of life to another, upon just reasons, requires
faculties whicli it has not pleased our Creator to give us.

' If therefore the profession you have chosen has some un-
-expected inconveniences, console yourself by reflecting that
no profession is without them ; and that all the importunities
•and perplexities of business are softness and luxury com-
pared with the incessant cravings of vacancy and the un-
satisfactory expedients of idleness.

" Haec sunt, quae nostra potui te voce monere ;
Vade, age."

'As to your History of Corsica, you have no materials which
others have not, or may not have. You have, somehow or
other, warmed your imagination. I wish there were some
cure, like the lover's leap, for all heads of which some single
idea has obtained an imreasonable and irregular possession.
Mind your own affairs, and leave the Corsicans to theirs. — I
am, dear sir, your most humble servant,

' Sam. JoHMsoir.

'London, Aug. 21, 1766.'

TO DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON

' Auchinleck, Nov. 6, 1766

'Much bstbemed aud deab Sir, — I plead not guilty
toi . . .

' Having thus, I hope, cleared myself of the charge brought
against me, I presume you will not be displeased if I escape
the punishment which you have decreed for me unheard. If
you have discharged the arrows of criticism against an innocent
man you must rejoice to find they have missed bim^ or have
not been pointed so as to wound him.

' To talk no longer in allegory, I am, with all deference,
going to offer a few observations in defence of my Latin, which
you have f oimd fault with.

' You think I should have used spei primce instead of «pct
altera. Spes is, indeed, often used to express something on

> The passage omitted explained the transaction to which the pre-
ceding letter had alluded.

JET.S7] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 179

■which we have a future dependence, as in Yirg. Eclog, i.
1.14:

"modo namque gemellos,
Spem gregis, ah ! silice in nuda connixa reliquit,"

and in Georg. iii. 1. 473 :

" Spemque gregemque simul,"

for the lambs and the sheep. Yet it is also used to express
anything on which we have a present dependence, and is well
applied to a man of distinguished influence, — our support, our
refuge, our prcesidium, as Horace calls Maecenas. So, in
jEneid xii. 1. 57, Queen Amata addresses her son-in-law
Tumus: "Spes tu nunc una": and he was then no future
hope, for she adds,

"decus imperiumque Latini
Te penes,"

which might have been said of my Lord Bute some years ago.
Now I consider the present Earl of Bute to be " Eoccclsce
familice de Bute spes prima " ; and my Lord Mountstuart, as
his eldest son, to be "spes altera." So in jEneid xii. 1. 168,
after having mentioned " Pater jEneas," who was the present
"spes," the reigning "spes," as my German friends would
say, the spes prima, the poet adds,

" Et juxta Ascanius, magnse spes altera Romse."

* You think alterce imgrammatical, and you teU me it shovild
have been alteri. You must recollect that in old times alter
was declined regularly ; and when the ancient fragments pre-
served in the Juris Civilis Pontes were written, it was
certainly declined in the way that I use it. This, I should
think, may protect a lawyer who writes alterce in a disserta-
tion upon part of his own science. But as I could hardly
venture to quote fragments of old law to so classical a man as
Mr. Johnson, I have not made an accurate search into these
remains, to find examples of what I am able to produce in
poetical composition. We find in Plant. Eudens, Act iii.
scene 4, line 45 :

" Nam huio alterce patria quae sit profecto nesoio.'

180 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1766

Plautus is, to be sure, an old comic writer ; but in the days
of Scipio and Lselius we find Terent. Heautontim. Act ii. scene
3, line 30 :

" hoc ipsa in itinere altera
Dum narrat, forte audivi."

' You doubt my having authority for using genus absolutely,
for what we call family, that is, for illustrious extraction.
Now I take genus in Latin to have much the same significa-
tion with hirth in English ; both in their primary meaning ex-
pressing simply descent, but both made to stand *cot' i^oxv", for
noble descent. Genus is thus used in Hor. lib. ii. Sat. v. L 8 :

"Et genus, et virtus, nisi cum re, vilior alga est."

And in lib. i. Epist. vi. 1. 37 :

' Et genu^ et formam Regina pecunia donat."

And in the celebrated contest between Ajax and Ulysses,
Ovid's Metamorph. lib. xiii. L 140 :

"Nam genus, et proavos, et quae non fecimus ipsi,
Vix ea nostra voco."

* Homines nuUius originis, for nullis orti majoribus, or
nuUo loco nati, is, "you are afraid, barbarous."

' Origo is used to signify extraction, as in Virg. uEneid L
Lg86:

"Nascetur pulcra Trojanus origine Caesar,"

and in Mneid x. 1. 618 :

"Hie tamen nostra deducit origine nomen " ;

and as nuUus is used for obscure, is it not in the genius of
the Latin language to write nvilius originL. for obscure
extraction ?

' I have defended myself as well as I could.

'lilight I venture to differ from you with regard to the
utility of vows ? I am sensible that it would be very dangerous
to make vows rashly, and without a due consideration. But
I carmot help thinking that they may often be of great
advantage to one of a variable judgment and irregular inclina-
tions. I always remember a passage in one of your letters to

MT.S7] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 181

our Italian friend Baretti, where, talking of the monastic life,
you say you do not wonder that serious men should put them-
selves tmder the protection of a religious order, when they
have found how unable they are to take care of themselves.
For my own part, without affecting to be a Socrates, I am
sure I have a more than ordinary struggle to maintain with
the Evil Principle ; and all the methods I can devise are little
enough to keep me tolerably steady in the paths of rectitude.

— I am ever, with the highest veneration, yoiir affectionate
humble servant, James Boswull.'

It appears from Johnson's Diary that he was this
year at Mr. Thrale's from before Midsummer till after
Michaelmas, and that he afterwards passed a month
at Oxford. He had then contracted a great intimacy
with Mr. Chambers of that University, afterwards Sir
Robert Chambers, one of the Judges in India.

He published nothing this year in his own name ;
but the noble dedication to the King of Gwyn's
' London and Westminster Improved ' was written by
him ; and he furnished the Preface and several of the
pieces which compose a volume of Miscellanies by
Mrs. Anna Williams, the blind lady who had an
asylum in his house. ^ Of these, there are his ' Epitaph

1 [In a paper already mentioned (see vol. i. p. 64, and near the end of
the year 1763), the following account of this publication is given by a
lady well acquainted with Mrs. Williams :

' As to her poems, she many years attempted to publish them : the
half-crowns she had got towards the publication, she confessed to me,
went for necessaries, and that the greatest pain she ever felt was from
the appearance of defrauding her subscribers : ' ' But what can I do ? the
Doctor (Johnson) always puts me off with ' Well, we '11 think about it,'
and Goldsmith says, ' Leave it to me.' " However, two of her friends,
under her directions, made a new subscription at a crown, the whole
price of the work, and in a very little time raised sixty pounds.^ Mrs.
Carter was applied to by Mrs. Williams's desire, and she, with the
utmost activity and kindness, procured a long list of names. At length
the work was published, in which is a fine written but gloomy tale of
Dr. Johnson. The money Mrs. Williams had various uses for, and a
part of it was funded.'

By this publication Mrs. Williams got £150.— /Bid. — M.]

182 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1766

ou Philips'; 'Translation of a Latin Epitaph on Sir
Thomas Hanmer ' ; ' Friendship, an Ode ' ; and ' The
Ant,' a paraphrase from the Proverbs, of which I
have a copy in his own handwriting ; and, from in-
ternal evidence, I ascribe to him, ' To Miss on

her giving the Author a gold and silk net-work Purse
of her own weaving'; and 'The happy Life.' Most
of the pieces of this volume have evidently received
additions from his superior pen, particularly ' Verses
to Mr. Richardson on his Sir Charles Grandison ' ;
' The Excursion ' ; ' Reflections on a Grave digging
in Westminster Abbey.' There is in this collection
a poem, ' On the death of Stephen Grey, the Electri-
cian,' which, on reading it, appeared to me to be
undoubtedly Johnson's. I asked Mrs. Williams
whether it was not his. 'Sir (said she, with some
warmth), I wrote that poem before I had the honour
of Dr. Johnson's acquaintance.' I, however, was so
much impressed with my first notion that I mentioned
it to Johnson, repeating at the same time what Mrs.
^Villiams had said. His answer was, ' It is true, sir,
that she wrote it before she was acquainted with me ;
but she has not told you that I wrote it all over again,
except two lines.' 'The Fountains,' a beautiful little
fairy tale in prose, written with exquisite simplicity,
is one of Johnson's productions ; and I cannot with-
hold from Mrs. Thrale the praise of being the author
of that admirable poem, 'The Three Warnings.'

He wrote this year a letter, not intended for publica-
tion, which has, perhaps, as strong marks of his
sentiment and style as any of his compositions. The
original is in my possession. It is addressed to the
late Mr. William Drummond, bookseller in Edin-

;et. 57] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 183

burgh, a gentleman of good family, but small estate,,
who took arms for the house of Stuart in 1745 ; and
during his concealment in London tUl the Act of
general pardon came out, obtained the acquaintance
of Dr. Johnson, who justly esteemed him as a very
worthy man. It seems some of the members of the
Society in Scotland for Propagating Christian Know-
ledge had opposed the scheme of translating the Holy
Scriptures into the Erse or Gaelic language, from
political considerations of the disadvantage of keeping
up the distinction between the Highlanders and the
other inhabitants of North Britain. Dr. Johnson
being informed of this, I suppose by Mr. Drummond^
wrote with a generous indignation as follows :

TO MR. WILLIAM DRUMMOND

' Sir, — I did not expect to hear that it could be, in an
assembly convened for the propagation of Christian know-
ledge, a jquestion whether any nation uninstructed in religion
should receive instruction ; or whether that instruction should
be imparted to them by a translation of the holy books into
their own language. If obedience to the will of God be
necessary to happiness, and knowledge of his will be necessary
to obedience, I know not how he that withholds this know-
ledge, or delays it, can be said to love his neighbour as him-
self. He that voluntarily continues ignorance is guilty of all
the crimes which ignorance produces ; as to him that should
extinguish the tapers of a lighthouse might justly be imputed
the calamities of shipwreck. Christianity is the highest
perfection of humanity ; and as no man is good but as he
wishes the good of others, no man can be good in the highest
degree who wishes not to others the largest measures of the-
greatest good. To omit for a year, or for a day, the most
efficacious method of advancing Christianity, in compliance
with any purposes that terminate on this side of the grave, i»-
a crime of which I know not that the world has yet had an.
example, except in the practice of the planters of America^

184 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1766

a race of mortals whom, I suppose, no other man wishes to
resemble.

' The Papists have, indeed, denied to the laity the use of
the Bible; but this prohibition, in few places now very
rigorously enforced, is defended by arguments which have
for their foundation the care of souls. To obscure, upon
motives merely political, the light of revelation, is a practice
reserved for the reformed ; and, surely, the blackest midnight
of Popery is meridian sunshine to such a reformation. I am
not very willing that any language should be totally extin-
guished. The similitude and derivation of languages afford
the most indubitable proof of the traduction of nations and
the genealogy of mankind. They add often physical certainty
to historical e^-idence ; and often supply the only evidence of
ancient migrations, and of the revolution of ages which left
no written monuments behind them.

'Every man's opinions, at least his desires, are a little
influenced by his favourite studies. My zeal for languages
may seem, perhaps, rather over-heated, even to those by whom
I desire to be well esteemed. To those who have nothing in
their thoughts but trade or policy, present power, or present
money, I should not think it necessary to defend my opinions ;
but with men of letters I would not unwillingly compound,
by wishing the continuance of every language, however narrow
in its extent, or however incommodious for common purposes,
till it is reposited in some version of a known book, that it
may be always hereafter examined and compared with other
languages, and then permitting its disuse. For this purpose
the translation of the Bible is most to be desired. It is not
certain that the same method will not preserve the Highland
language, for the purposes of learning, and abolish it from
daily use. When the Highlanders read the Bible they will
naturally wish to have its obscurities cleared, and to know the
history, collateral or appendant. Knowledge always desires
increase ; it is like fire, which must first be kindled by some
external agent, but which will afterward propagate itself.
When they once desire to learn, they will naturally have
recourse to the nearest language by which that desire can be
gratified; and one wUl tell another that if he would attain
knowledge he must learn English.

iET. 57] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 186

"This speculation may, perhaps, be thought more subtle
than the grossness of real life will easily admit. Let it, how-
ever, be remembered that the efficacy of ignorance has long
been tried, and has not produced the consequence expected.
Let knowledge, therefore, take its turn ; and let the patrons
of privation stand a while aside, and admit the operation of
positive principles.

' You will be pleased, sir, to assure the worthy man who is
employed in the new translation, i that he has my wishes for
his success ; and if here or at Oxford I can be of any use,
that I shall think it more than honour to promote his under-
taking.

' I am sorry that I delayed so long to write. — I am, sir, your
most humble servant, Sam. Johnson.

' JohnsorCs Court, Fleet Street,
Aug. 13, 1766.'

The opponents of this pious scheme being made
ashamed of their conduct, the benevolent undertaking
was allowed to go on.

The following letters, though not written till the
year after, being chiefly upon the same subject, are
here inserted :

TO MK. WILLIAM DRUMMOND

'Dear Sir, — That my letter should have had such effects
as you mention gives me great pleasure. I hope you do not
flatter me by imputing to me more good than I have really

1 The Rev. Mr. John Campbell, ministerof the parish of Kippen,
near Stirling, who has lately favoured me with a long, intelligent, and
very obliging letter upon this work, makes the following remark : — ' JDr.
Johnson has alluded to the worthy man employed in the translation of
the New Testament. Might not this have afforded you an opportunity
of paying a proper tribute of respect to the memory of the Rev. Mr.
James Stuart, late minister of Killin, distinguished by his eminent
piety, learning, and taste? The amiable simplicity of his life, his warm
benevolence, nis indefatigable and successful exertions for civilising
and improving the parish of which he was minister for upwards of fifty
years, entitle nim to the gratitude of his country and the veneration of
all good men. It certainly would be a pity if such a character should
be permitted to sink into oblivion.'

186 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1767

done. Those whom my arguments have persuaded to change
their opinion show such modesty and candour as deserve
great praise.

' I hope the worthy translator goes diligently forward. He
has a higher reward in prospect than any honours which this
world can bestow. I wish I could be useful to him.

' The publication of my letter, if it could be of use in a
cause to which all other causes are nothing, I should not
prohibit. But, first, I would have you to consider whether
the publication will really do any good ; next, whether by
printing and distributing a very small number, you may not
attain all that you propose ; and, what perhaps I should have
said first, whether the letter, which I do not now perfectly
remember, be fit to be printed.

'If you can consult Dr. Robertson, to whom I am a little
known, I shall be satisfied about the propriety of whatever he
shall direct. If he thinks that it should be printed, I entreat
him to revise it ; there may, perhaps, be some negligent lines
written, and whatever is amiss, he knows very well how to
rectify.^

' Be pleased to let me know, from time to time, how this
excellent design goes forward.

' Make my compliments to young Sir. Drummond, whom I
hope you wUl live to see such as you desire him.

' I have not lately seen Mr. Elphinston, but believe him to
be prosperous. I shall be glad to hear the same of you, for I
am, sir, your affectionate humble servant,

'Sam. J0HNS017.

' Johnson's Court, Fleet Street,
April 21, 1767.'

TO MR. WILLIAM DRUMMOND

'Sm, — I returned this week from the country, after an
absence of near six months, and found your letter with many
others, which I should have answered sooner, if I had sooner
seen them.

'Dr. Robertson's opinion was surely right. Men should

1 This paragraph shows Johnson's real estimation of the character
and abilities of the celebrated Scottish historian, however lightly, in
a moment of caprice, he may have spoken of his works.

iET. 58] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 187

not be told of the faults which they have mended. I am glad
the old language is taught, and honour the translator as a man
whom God has distinguished by the high office of propagating
his word-

' I must take the liberty of engaging you in an office of
charity. Mrs. Heely, the wife of Mr. E^ely, who had lately
some office in your theatre, is my near relation, and now in
great distress. They wrote me word of their situation some
time ago, to which I returned them an answer which raised
hopes of more than it is proper for me to give them. Their
representation of their affairs I have discovered to be such as
cannot be trusted; and at this distance, though their case
requires haste, 'I know not how to act. She, or her daughters,
may be heard of at Canongate Head. I must beg, sir, that
you will inquire after them, and let me know what is to be
done. I am willing to go to ten pounds, and will transmit
you such a sum if upon examination you find it likely to be
of use. If they are in immediate want, advance them what
you think proper. What I could do, I would do for the
woman, having no great reason to pay much regard to Heely
himself.^

'I believe you may receive some intelligence from Mrs.
Baker, of the theatre, whose letter I received at the same
time with yours ; and to whom, if you see her, you will make
my excuse for the seeming neglect of answering her.

* Whatever you advance within ten pounds shall be imme-
diately returned to you, or paid as you shall order. I trust
wholly to your judgment. — I am, sir, etc.,

' Sam. Johi;son.

' London, Johnson's Court, Fleet Street,
Oct. 24, 1767.'

Mr. Cuthbert Shaw,^ alike distinguished by his
genius, misfortunes, and misconduct, published this
year a poem, called 'The Race, by Mercurius Spur,
Esq.,' in which he whimsically made the living poets

1 This is the person concerning whom Sir John Hawkins has thrown
out very unwarrantable reflections both against Dr. Johnson and Mr.
Francis Barber.

8 See an account of him in The European Magazine, Jan. 1786.

188 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1767

of England contend for pre-eminence of fame by
running :

' Prove by their heels the prowess of their head.'

In this poem there was the following portrait of
Johnson :

' Here Johnson comes, — nnblest with outward grace.
His rigid morals stamp'd upon his face.
While strong conceptions struggle in his brain ;
(For even wit is brought to bed with pain :)
To view him, porters with their loads would rest,
And babes cling frighted to the nurse's breast.
"With looks convulsed he roars in pompous strain,
And, like an angry lion, shakes his mane.
The Nine, with terror struck, who ne'er had seen
Aught human with so terrible a mien,
Debating whether they should stay or run.
Virtue steps forth, and claims him for her son.
"With gentle speech she warns him now to yield.
Nor stain his glories in the doubtful field ;
But wrapt in conscious worth, content sit down.
Since Fame, resolved his various pleas to crown.
Though forced his present claim to disavow,
Had long reserved a chaplet for his brow.
He bows, obeys ; for Time shall first expire.
Ere Johnson stay, when Virtue bids retire.'

The Honourable Thomas Hervey ' and his lady having
unhappily disagreed, and being about to separate,
Johnson interfered as their friend, and wrote him a
letter of expostulation, which I have not been able to
find ; but the substance of it is ascertained by a letter
to Johnson in answer to it, which Mr. Hervey printed.

1 [The Honourable Thomas Hervey, whose letter to Sir Thomas
Hanmer in 1742 was much read at that time. He was the second son
of John, the first Earl of BrLstoI, and one of the brothers of Johnson's
early friend, Henry Hervey. He married in 1744, Anne, daughter of
Francis Coughlan, Esq., and died Jan. 20, 1775. — M.]

^T. 58] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 189

The occasion of this correspondence between Dr.
Johnson and Mr. Hervey was thus related to me by
Mr. Beauclerk : ' Tom Hervey had a great liking for
Johnson^ and in his will had left him a legacy of fifty
pounds. One day he said to me^ " Johnson may want
this money now, more than afterward. I have a mind
to give it him directly. Will you be so good as to
carry a fifty-pound note from me to him .f* " This I
positively refused to do, as he might, perhaps, have
knocked me down for insulting him, and have after-
ward put the note in his pocket. But I said if
Hervey would write him a letter, and enclose a fifty-
pound note, I should take care to deliver it. He ac-
cordingly did write him a letter, mentioning that he
was only paying a legacy a little sooner. To his letter
he added, " P.S. I am going to part with my wife."
Johnson then wrote to him, saying nothing of the
note, but remonstrating with him against parting with
his wife.'

When I mentioned to Johnson this story, in as deli-
cate terms as I could, he told me that the fifty-pound
note was given to him by Mr. Hervey in consideration
of his having written for him a pamphlet against
Sir Charles Hanbury Williams, who, Mr. Hervey
imagined, was the author of an attack upon him ; but
that it was afterwards discovered to be the work of a
garreteer, who wrote The Fool : the pamphlet, therefore,
against Sir Charles was not printed.

In February 1767 there happened one of the most
remarkable incidents of Johnson's life, which gratified
his monarchical enthusiasm, and which he loved to
relate with all its circumstances, when requested by
his friends. This was his being honoured by a private

190 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1767

conversation with his Majesty, in the library at the
Queen's house. He had frequently visited those
splendid rooms and noble collection of books,^ which
he used to say was more numerous and curious than
he supposed any person could have made in the time
which the King had employed. Mr. Barnard, the
librarian, took care that he should have every accom-
modation that could contribute to his ease and con-
venience, whUe indulging his literary taste in that
place, so that he had here a very agreeable resource
at leisure hours.

His Majesty having been informed of his occasional
visits, was pleased to signify a desire that he should be
told when Dr. Johnson came next to the library.
Accordingly, the next time that Johnson did come, as
soon as he was fairly engaged with a book, on which,
while he sat by the fire, he seemed quite intent, Mr.
Barnard stole round to the apartment where the
King was, and, in obedience to his Majesty's com-
mands, mentioned that Dr. Johnson was then in the
library. His Majesty said he was at leisure, and
would go to him ; upon which Mr. Barnard took one
of the candles that stood on the King's table, and
lighted his Majesty through a suite of rooms, till they
came to a private door into the library, of which his
Majesty had the key. Being entered, Mr. Barnard
stepped forward hastily to Dr. Johnson, who was still
in a profound study, and whispered him, ' Sir, here is

1 Dr. Johnson had the honour of contributing his assistance towards
the formation of this library ; for I have read a long letter from him to
Mr. Barnard, giving the most masterly instructions on the subject. I
wished much to have gratified my readers with the perusal of this letter,
and have reason to think that his Majesty would have been graciously
pleased to permit its publication ; but Mr. Barnard, to whom I applied,
declined it, ' on his own account.'

iET. S8] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 191

the King.' Johnson started up, and stood still. Hig
Majesty approached him, and at once was courteously
easy.^

His Majesty began by observing that he understood
he came sometimes to the library ; and then mentioned
his having heard that the Doctor had been lately at
Oxford, and asked him if he was not fond of going
thither. To which Johnson answered, that he was
indeed fond of going to Oxford sometimes, but was
likewise glad to come back again. The King then
asked him what they were doing at Oxford. Johnson
answered, he could not much commend their diligence,
but that in some respects they were mended, for they
had put their press under better regulations, and were
at that time printing Polybius. He was then asked
whether there were better libraries at Oxford or
Cambridge. He answered, he believed the Bodleian
was larger than any they had at Cambridge ; at the
same time adding : ' I hope, whether we have more
books or not than they have at Cambridge, we shall

1 The particulars of this conversation I have been at great pains to
collect with the utmost authenticity from Dr. Johnson's own detail to
myself : from Mr. Langton, who was present when he gave an account
of it to Dr. Joseph Warton, and several other friends at Sir Joshua
Reynolds's ; from Mr. Barnard ; from the copy of a letter written by
the late Mr. Strahan the printer to Bishop Warburton ; and from a
minute, the original of which is among the papers of the late Sir James
Caldwell, and a copy of which was most obligingly obtained for me
from his son. Sir John Caldwell, by Sir Francis Lumm. To all these
gentlemen I beg leave to make my grateful acknowledgments, and par-
ticularly to Sir Francis Lumm, who was pleased to take a great deal of
trouble, and even had the minute laid before the King by Lord Caer-
marthen, now Duke of Leeds, then one of his Majesty's Principal
Secretaries of State, who announced to Sir Francis the royal pleasure
concerning it by a letter, in these words : ' I have the King's commands
toassure you, sir, how sensible his Majesty is of your attention in com-
municating the minute of conversation previous to its publication. As
there appears no objection to your complying with Mr. Boswell's wishes
on the subject, you are at full liberty to deliver it to that gentleman, to
make such use of in bis Li/t of Dr. Johnson as he may tbmk proper.'

192 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1767

make as good use of them as they do. ' Being asked
whether All-Souls or Christ Church Library was the
largest, he answered : 'All-Souls Library is the largest
we have, except the Bodleian.' ' Ay (said the King),
that is the public library.'

His Majesty inquired if he was then writing any-
thing. He answered, he was not, for he had pretty
well told the world what he knew, and must now read
to acquire more knowledge. The King, as it should
seem with a view to urge him to rely on his own
stores as an original writer, and to continue his
labours, then said : * I do not think you borrow much
from anybody.' Johnson said, he thought he had
already done his part as a writer. *I should have
thought so too (said the King), if you had not written
so well.' Johnson observed to me upon this, that 'no
man could have paid a handsomer compliment ; and
it was fit for a king to pay. It was decisive.' ^Fhen
asked by another friend at Sir Joshua Reynolds's,
whether he made any reply to this high compliment,
he answered : ' No, sir. When the King had said it,
it was to be so. It was not for me to bandy civilities
with my Sovereign.' Perhaps no man who had spent
his whole life in courts could have shown a more nice
and dignified sense of true politeness than Johnson
did in this instance.

His Majesty having observed to him that he sup-
posed he must have read a great deal, Johnson
answered, that he thought more than he read ; that
he had read a great deal in the early part of his life,
but having fallen into ill health, he had not been able
to read much compared with others : for instance, he
said he had not read much compared with Dr. Warbur-

iET. 58] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 193

ton. Upon which the King said that he heard Dr.
Warburton was a man of such general knowledge
that you could scarce talk with him on any subject on
which he was not qualified to speak ; and that his
learning resembled Garrick's acting in its universality. ^
His Majesty then talked of the controversy between
Warburton and Lowth, which he seemed to have read,
and asked Johnson what he thought of it. Johnson
answered : ' Warburton has most general, most schol-
astic learning ; Lowth is the more correct scholar. I
do not know which of them calls names best.' The
King was pleased to say he was of the same opinion,
adding : ' You do not think then. Dr. Johnson, that
there was much argument in the case } ' Johnson said
he did not think there was. ' Why, truly (said the
King), when once it comes to calling names, argument
is pretty well at an end.'

His Majesty then asked him what he thought of
Lord Lyttelton's history, which was then just pub-
lished. Johnson said he thought his style pretty
good, but that he had blamed Henry the Second
rather too much. ' Why (said the King), they sel-
dom do these things by halves.' *No, sir (answered
Johnson), not to kings.' But fearing to be mis-
understood, he proceeded to explain himself; and
immediately subjoined, 'That for those who spoke
worse of kings than they deserved, he could find no
excuse ; but that he could more easily conceive how
some might speak better of them than they deserved.

1 The Reverend Mr. Straban clearly recollects having been told by
Johnson that the King observed that Pope made Warburton a Bishop.
'True, sir ^said Johnson), but Warburton did more for Pope ; he made
him a Christian,' — alluding, no doubt, to his ingenious conmients on
the Essay on Man.

194 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1767

without any ill intention ; for, as kings had much in
their power to give, those who were favoured by them
would frequently, from gratitude, exaggerate their
praises : and as this proceeded from a good motive, it
was certainly excusable, as far as error could be ex-
cusable. '

The King then asked him what he thought of Dr.
Hill. Johnson answered, that he was an ingenious
man, but had no veracity ; and immediately men-
tioned, as an instance of it, an assertion of that
writer, that he had seen objects magnified to a much
greater degree by using three or four microscopes at
a time than by using one. 'Now (added Johnson),
every one acquainted with microscopes knows, that the
more of them he looks through, the less the object
will appear.' *Why (replied the King), this is not
only telling an untruth, but telling it clumsily ; for,
if that be the case, every one who can look through a
microscope will be able to detect him.'

' I now (said Johnson to his friends, when relating
what had passed), began to consider that I was depre-
ciating this man in the estimation of his Sovereign,
and thought it was time for me to say something that
might be more favourable.' He added, therefore,
that Dr. Hill was, notwithstanding, a very curious
observer; and if he would have been contented to
tell the world no more than he knew, he might have
been a very considerable man, and needed not to
have recourse to such mean expedients to raise his
reputation.

The King then talked of literary journals, mentioned
particularly the Journal des Savans, and asked Johnson
if it was well done. Johnson said it was formerly

jEr.sS] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 196

very well done, and gave some account of the persons
who began it, and carried it on for some years ; en-
larging, at the same time, on the nature and use of
such works. The King asked him if it was well done
now. Johnson answered, he had no reason to think
that it was. The King then asked him if there were
any other literary journals published in this kingdom,
except the Monthly and Critical Reviews ; and on being
answered there was no other, his Majesty asked which
of them was the best : Johnson answered that the
Monthly Review was done with most care, the Critical
upon the best principles ; adding that the authors of
the Monthly Review were enemies to the Church. This
the King said he was sorry to hear.

The conversation next turned on the Philosophical
Transactions, when Johnson observed that they had
now a better method of arranging their materials than
formerly. ' Ay (said the King), they are obliged to
Dr. Johnson for that' ; for his Majesty had heard and
remembered the circumstance, which Johnson him-
self had forgot.

His Majesty expressed a desire to have the literary
biography of this country ably executed, and proposed
to Dr. Johnson to undertake it. Johnson signified
his readiness to comply with his Majesty's wishes.

During the whole of this interview, Johnson talked
to his Majesty with profound respect, but still in his
firm, manly manner, with a sonorous voice, and never
in that subdued tone which is commonly used at the
levee and in the drawing-room. After the King with-
drew, Johnson showed himself highly pleased with his
Majesty's conversation, and gracious behaviour. He
said to Mr. Barnard, ' Sir, they may talk of the King

196 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1767

as they will ; but he is the finest gentleman I have
ever seen.' And he afterwards observed to Mr. Lang-
ton, * Sir, his manners are those of as fine a gentleman
as we may suppose Louis the Fourteenth or Charles
the Second.'

At Sir Joshua Reynolds's, where a circle of John-
son's friends was collected round him to hear his
account of tliis memorable conversation. Dr. Joseph
Warton, in his frank and lively manner, was very
active in pressing him to mention the particulars.
' Come now, sir, this is an interesting matter ; do
favour us with it.' Johnson, with great good humour,
complied.

He told them, ' I found his Majesty wished I should
talk, and I made it my business to talk. I find it
does a man good to be talked to by his Sovereign. In

the first place a man cannot be in a passion '

Here some question interrupted him, which is to be
regretted, as he certainly would have pointed out
and illustrated many circumstances of advantage,
from being in a situation where the powers of the
mind are at once excited to vigorous exertion, and
tempered by reverential awe.

During all the time in which Dr. Johnson was em-
ployed in relating to the circle at Sir Joshua Reynolds's
the particulars of what passed between the King and
him. Dr. Goldsmith remained unmoved upon a sofa
at some distance, affecting not to join in the least in
the eager curiosity of the company. He assigned as
a reason for his gloom and seeming inattention, that
he apprehended Johnson had relinquished his purpose
of furnishing him with a Prologue to his play, with
the hopes of which he had been flattered ; but it was

^T. 58] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 197

strongly suspected that he was fretting with chagrin
and envy at the singular honour Dr. Johnson had
lately enjoyed. At length, the frankness and sim-
plicity of his natural character prevailed. He sprung
from the sofa, advanced to Johnson, and in a kind of
flutter, from imagining himself in the situation which
he had just been hearing described, exclaimed, * Well,
you acquitted yourself in this conversation better than
I should have done ; for I should have bowed and
stammered through the whole of it.'

I received no letter from Johnson this year ; nor
have I discovered any of the correspondence ^ he had,
except the two letters to Mr. Drummond, which have
been inserted, for the sake of connection with that to
the same gentleman in 1766. His diary affords no
light as to his employment at this time. He passed
three months at Lichfield ; ' and I cannot omit an
affecting and solemn scene there, as related by him-
self:

'Simday, Oct. 18, 1767. — Yesterday, Oct. 17, at about ten in
the morning, I took my leave for ever of my dear old friend,
Catherine Chambers, who came to live with my mother about
1724, and has been but little parted from us since. She buried
my father, my brother, and my mother. She is now fifty-
eight years old.

' I desired all to withdraw, then told her that we were to
part for ever ; that as Christians we should part with prayer ;

1 It is proper here to mention, that when I speak of his correspond-
ence, I consider it independent of the voluminous collection of letters
which, in the course of many years, he wrote to Mrs. Thrale, which
forms a separate part of his works ; and, as a proof of the high estima-
tion set on anything which came from his pon, was sold by that lady
for the sum of five hundred pounds.

2 [In his letter to Mr. Drummond, dated October 24, 1767, he men-
tions that he had arrived in London, after an absence of nearly six
months in the country. Probably part of that time was spent at
Oxford.— M.]

198 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1768

and that I would, if she was willing, say a short prayer beside
her. She expressed great desire to hear me ; and held up her
poor hands, as she lay in bed, with great fervour, while I
prayed, kneeling by her, nearly in the following words :

' "Almighty and most merciful Father, whose lovingldnd-
ness is over all thy works, behold, visit, and relieve this thy
servant, who is grieved with sickness. Grant that the sense
of her weakness may add strength to her faith and seriousness
to her repentance. And grant that by the help of thy Holy
Spirit, after the pains and labours of this short life, we may
all obtain everlasting happiness, through Jesus Christ our
Lord, for whose sake hear our prayers. Amen. Our Father,
etc."

'I then kissed her. She told me that to part was the
greatest pain that she had ever felt, and that she hoped we
shoiild meet again in a better place. I expressed, with swelled
eyes, and great emotion of tenderness, the same hopes. We
kissed, and parted, I humbly hope, to meet again, and to part
no more.' ^

By those who have been taught to look upon John-
son as a man of a harsh and stern character, let this
tender and affectionate scene be candidly read ; and
let them then judge whether more warmth of heart,
and grateful kindness, is often found in human
nature.

We have, the following notice in his devotional
record :

'Augusts, 1767. — I have been disturbed and unsettled for
a long time, and have been without resolution to apply to
study or to business, being hindered by sudden snatches.' ^

He, however, furnished Mr. Adams with a Dedica-
tion to the King of that ingenious gentleman's Treatise
on the Globes, conceived and expressed in such a manner

1 Prayers and Meditations, pp. 77 and 78.

2 Ibid. p. 7%.

^T. 59] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 199

as could not fail to be very grateful to a monarch,
distinguished for his love of the sciences.

This year was published a ridicule of his style, under
the title of Lexiphanes. Sir John Hawkins ascribes
it to Dr. Kenrick ; but its author was one Campbell,
a Scotch purser in the navy. The ridicule consisted
in applying Johnson's ' words of large meaning ' to in-
significant matters, as if one should put the armour of
Goliath upon a dwarf. The contrast might be laugh-
able ; but the dignity of the armour must remain the
same in all considerate minds. This malicious drollery,
therefore, it may easily be supposed, could do no harm
to its illustrious object.

TO BENNET LANGTON, ESQ., AT MB. ROTHWELl's,
PERFUMER IN NEW BOND STREET, LONDON

' Dkab Sib, — That you have been all summer in London is
one more reason for which I regret my long stay in the country.
I hope that you will not leave the town before my retum-
We have here only the chance of vacancies in the passing
carriages, and I have bespoken one that may, if it happens,
bring me to town on the f oiu-teenth of this month : but this is
not certain.

'It will be a favour if you communicate this to Mrs.
Williams : I long to see all my friends. — I am, dear sir, your
most humble servant, Sam. Johnson.

' Lichfield, Oct. 10, 1767.'

It appears from his notes of the state of his mind,*
that he suffered great perturbation and distraction in
1768. Nothing of his writing was given to the public
this year, except the Prologue to his friend Gold-
smith's comedy of The Good-natured Man. The first
lines of this Prologue are strongly characteristical of

1 Prayers and Meditations, p. 8i.

200 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1768

the dismal gloom of his mind ; which, in his case, as
in the case of all who are distressed with the same
malady of imagination, transfers to others its own
feelings. Who could suppose it was to introduce a
comedy, when Mr. Bensley solemnly began :

' Press'd with the load of life, the weary mind
Surveys the general toU of human kind.'

But this dark ground might make Goldsmith's humour
shine the more.

In the spring of this year, having published my
Account of Corsica, with the Journal of a Tour to that
Island, I returned to London, verj desirous to see
Dr. Johnson, and hear him upon the subject. I found
he was at Oxford, with his friend Mr. Chambers, who
was now Vinerian Professor, and lived in New Inn
Hall. Having had no letter from him since that in
which he criticised the Latinity of my Thesis, and
having been told by somebody that he was offended at
my having put into my book an extract of his letter
to me at Paris, I was impatient to be with him, and
therefore followed him to Oxford, where I was enter-
tained by Mr. Chambers, with a civility which I shall
ever gratefully remember. I found that Dr. Johnson
had sent a letter to me to Scotland, and that I had
nothing to complain of but his being more indifferent
to my anxiety than I wished him to be. Instead of
giving, with the circumstances of time and place,
such fragments of his conversation as I preserved
during this visit to Oxford, I shall throw them to-
gether in continuation.

I asked him whether, as a moralist, he did not think
that the practice of the law, in some degree, hurt the

^T. 59] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 201

nice feeling of honesty. Johnson : ' Why no, sir, if
you act properly. You are not to deceive your clients
with false representations of your opinion ; you are
not to teU lies to a judge.' Boswell : 'But what do
you think of supporting a cause which you know to
be bad?' Johnson: 'Sir, you do not know it to be
good or bad till the judge determines it. I have said
that you are to state facts fairly ; so that your think-
ing, or what you call knowing, a cause to be bad,
must be from reasoning, must be from your supposing
your arguments to be weak and inconclusive. But,
sir, that is not enough. An argument which does not
convince yourself, may convince the judge to whom
you urge it ; and if it does convince him, why then,
sir, you are wrong, and he is right. It is his business
to judge ; and you are not to be confident in your
own opinion that a cause is bad, but to say all you
can for your client, and then hear the judge's opinion.'
Boswell : ' But, sir, does not affecting a warmth when
you have no warmth, and appearing to be clearly of
one opinion when you are in reality of another
opinion, does not such dissimulation impair one's
honesty ? Is there not some danger that a lawyer
may put on the same mask in common life, in the
intercourse with his friends } ' Johnson : ' Why no,
sir. Everybody knows you are paid for affecting
warmth for your client ; ^ and it is, therefore, properly
no dissimulation : the moment you come from the bar
you resume your usual behaviour. Sir, a man will no
more carry the artifice of the bar into the common
intercourse of society, than a man who is paid for

1 [/ras ei verba locant. — A. B.]

202 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1768

tumbling upon his hands will continue to tumble upon
his hands when he should walk on his feet.'

Talking of some of the modern plays, he said False
Delicacy^ was totally void of character. He praised
Goldsmith's Good-natured Man ; said it was the best
comedy that had appeared since The Provoked Husband,
and that there had not been of late any such character
exhibited on the stage as that of Croaker. I observed
it was the Suspirius of his Rambler. He said. Goldsmith
had owned he had borrowed it from thence. 'Sir
(continued he), there is all the difference in the world
between characters of nature and characters of
manners ; and there is the difference between the
characters of Fielding and those of Richardson. Char-
acters of manners are very entertaining ; but they are
more to be understood by a superficial observer than
characters of nature, where a man must dive into the
recesses of the human heart.'

It always appeared to me that he estimated the com-
positions of Richardson too highly, and that he had
an unreasonable prejudice against Fielding. In com-
paring those two writers he used this expression :
' That there was as great a difference between them as
between a man who knew how a watch was made
and a man who could tell the hour by looking on the
dial-plate.' This was a short and figurative state of
his distinction between drawing characters of nature
and characters only of manners. But I cannot help
being of opinion that the neat watches of Fielding are
as well constructed as the large clocks of Richardson,

1 [By Hugh Kelly. It was a great success. Johnson once declined
an introduction to Kelly, observing, ' No, sir, I never desire to con-
verse with a man who has written more than he has read.' — A. B.]

^T. 59] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 203

and that his dial-plates are brighter. Fielding's char-
acters, though they do not expand themselves so
widely in dissertation, are as just pictures of human
nature, and I will venture to say, have more striking
features, and nicer touches of the pencil ; and, though
Johnson used to quote with approbation a saying of
Richardson's, 'That the virtues of Fielding's heroes
were the vices of a truly good man,' I will venture to
add that the moral tendency of Fielding's writings,
though it does not encourage a strained and rarely
possible virtue, is ever favourable to honour and
honesty, and cherishes the benevolent and generous
affections. He who is as good as Fielding would make
him, is an amiable member of society, and may be
led on by more regulated instructors to a higher state
of ethical perfection.

Johnson proceeded : 'Even Sir Francis Wronghead"^
is a character of manners, though drawn with great
humour.' He then repeated, very happily, all Sir
Francis's credulous account to Manly of his being with
' the great man,' and securing a place. I asked him
if The Suspicious Husband^ did not furnish a well-
drawn character, that of Ranger. Johnson : ' No, sir;
Ranger is a just rake, a mere rake, and a lively young
fellow, but no character.'

The great Douglas Cause was at this time a very
general subject of discussion. I found he had not
studied it with much attention, but had only heard
parts of it occasionally. He, however, talked of it,
and said : ' I am of opinion that positive proof of fraud

1 [See TAe Provoked Husband, by Vambrugh. — A. B.]

2 (By Benjamin Hoadley, M.D., who I regret to say, in a letter to
Garrick, familiarly refers to Johnson as ' Puffy Pensioner.' — ^A. B.]

204 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1768

should not be required of the plaintiff, but that the
judges should decide according as probability shall
appear to preponderate, granting to the defendant the
presumption of filiation to be strong in his favour.
And I think, too, that a good deal of weight should be
allowed to the dying declarations, because they were
spontaneous. There is a great difference between
what is said without our being urged to it, and what is
said from a kind of compulsion. If I praise a man's
book without being asked my opinion of it, that is
honest praise, to which one may trust. But if an
author asks me if I like his book, and I give him some-
thing like praise, it must not be taken as my real
opinion.

'I have not been troubled for a long time with
authors desiring my opinion of their works. I used
once to be sadly plagued with a man who wrote verses,
but who literally had no other notion of a verse but
that it consisted of ten syllables. Lay your knife and
your fork across your plate was to him a verse :

Lay your knife and your fork acr5s3 your plate.

As he wrote a great number of verses, he sometimes by
chance made good ones, though he did not know it.'

He renewed his promise of coming to Scotland, and
going with me to the Hebrides, but said he would now
content himself with seeing one or two of the most
curious of them. He said : ' Macaulay, who writes
the account of St. Kilda, set out with a prejudice
against prejudice, and wanted to be a smart modern
thinker ; and yet he affirms for a truth, that when a ship
arrives there all the inhabitants are seized with a cold.'

Dr. John Campbell, the celebrated writer, took a

^T. 59] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 206

great deal of pains to ascertain this fact, and attempted
to account for it on physical principles, from the effect
of effluvia from human bodies. Johnson, at another
time, praised Macaulay for his 'magnanimity' in
asserting this wonderful story, because it was well
attested. A lady of Norfolk, by a letter to my friend
Dr. Burney, has favoured me with the following solu-
tion : ' Now for the explication of this seeming mystery,
which is so very obvious as, for that reason, to have
escaped the penetration of Dr. Johnson and his friend,
as well as that of the author. Reading the book with
my ingenious friend, the late Reverend Mr. Christian
of Docking, after ruminating a little : " The cause
(says he) is a natural one. The situation of St. Kilda
renders a north-east wind indispensably necessary
before a stranger can land. The wind, not the
stranger, occasions an epidemic cold." If I am not
mistaken, Mr. Macaulay is dead ; if living, this
solution might please him, as I hope it will Mr.
Boswell, in return for the many agreeable hours his
works have afforded us.'

Johnson expatiated on the advantages of Oxford for
learning. ' There is here, sir (said he), such a progres-
sive emulation. The students are anxious to appear
well to their tutors ; the tutors are anxious to have
their pupils appear well in the college ; the colleges are
anxious to have their students appear well in the
University ; and there are excellent rules of discipline
in every college. That the rules are sometimes ill
observed, may be true ; but is nothing against the
system. The members of a University may, for a
season, be unmindful of their duty. I am arguing for
the excellency of the institution.'

206 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1768

Of Guthrie, he said, ' Sir, he is a man of parts. He
has no great regular fund of knowledge ; but by read-
ing so long, and writing so long, he no doubt has
picked up a good deal.'

He said he had lately been a long while at Lichfield,
but had grown very weary before he left it. Boswell :
' I wonder at that, sir ; it is your native place.' John-
son : ' Why, so is Scotland your native place.'

His prejudice against Scotland appeared remarkably
strong at this time. When I talked of our advance-
ment in literature : ' Sir (said he), you have learned a
little from us, and you think yourselves very great
men. Hume would never have written history, had
not Voltaire written it before him. He is an echo of
Voltaire.' Boswell: ' But, sir, we have Lord Kames.'
Johnson : ' You have Lord Kames. Keep him ; ha,
ha, ha ! We don't envy you him. Do you ever see
Dr. Robertson.''' Boswell: 'Yes, sir.' Johnson:
' Does the dog talk of me .'' ' Boswell : ' Indeed, sir,
he does, and loves you.' Thinking that I now had him
in a corner, and being solicitous for the literary fame
of my country, I pressed him for his opinion on the
merit of Dr. Robertson's History of Scotland. But, to
my surprise, he escaped. — 'Sir, I love Robertson, and
I won't talk of his book.'

It is but justice both to him and Dr. Robertson to
add, that though he indulged himself in this sally of
wit, he had too good taste not to be fully sensible of
the merits of that admirable work.

An essay, written by Mr. Deane, a divine of the
Church of England, maintaining the future life of
brutes, by an explication of certain parts of the Scrip-
tures, was mentioned, and the doctrine insisted on by

^T. 59] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 207

a gentleman who seemed fond of curious speculation.
Johnson, who did not like to hear of anything con-
cerning a future state which was not authorised by
the regular canons of orthodoxy, discouraged this
talk ; and being offended at its continuation, he
watched an opportunity to give the gentleman a blow
of reprehension. So, when the poor speculatist, with
a serious, metaphysical, pensive face, addressed him,
' But really, sir, when we see a very sensible dog, we
don't know what to think of him.' Johnson, rolling
with joy at the thought which beamed in his eye,
turned quickly round, and replied, ' True, sir : and
when we see a very foolish ye//ow?, we don't know what
to think of him.' He then rose up, strided to the fire,
and stood for some time laughing and exulting.

I told him that I had several times, when in Italy,
seen the experiment of placing a scorpion within a
circle of burning coals ; that it ran round and round
in extreme pain ; and finding no way to escape, retired
to the centre, and like a true Stoic philosopher, darted
its sting into its head, and thus at once freed itself
from its woes. ' This must end 'em.' I said this was
a curious fact, as it showed deliberate suicide in a
reptile. Johnson would not admit the fact. He said
Maupertuis ^ was of opinion that it does not kill itself.

1 I should think it impossible not to wonder at the variety of John-
son's reading, however desultory it might have been. Who could have
imagined that the High Church of England man would be so prompt
in quoting Maupertuis, who, I am sorry to think, stands in the list of
those unfortunate mistaken men who call themselves esirits ybrts. I
have, however, a high respect for that philosopher whom the great
Frederick of Prussia loved and honoured, and addressed pathetically
in one of his poems —

' Maupertuis, cher Maupertuis,
Que notre vie est peu de chose ! '

There was in Maupertuis a vigour and yet a tenderness of sentiment.

208 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1768

but dies of the heat ; that it gets to the centre of the
circle, as the coolest place ; that its turning its tail in
upon its head is merely a convulsion, and that it does
not sting itself. He said he would be satisfied if the
great anatomist Morgagni, after dissecting a scorpion
on which the experiment had been tried, should certify
that its sting had penetrated into its head.

He seemed pleased to talk of natural philosophy.
'That woodcocks (said he) fly over the northern
countries, is proved, because they have been observed
at sea. Swallows certainly sleep all the winter. A
number of them conglobulate together by flying round
and round, and then all in a heap throw themselves
under water, and lie in the bed of a river. ' ^ He told
us one of his first essays was a Latin poem upon the
glow-worm ; I am sorry I did not ask where it was to
be found.

Talking of the Russians and the Chinese, he advised
me to read Bell's Travels. I asked him whether I
should read Du Halde's Account of China. 'Why,
yes (said he), as one reads such a book ; that is to say,
consult it.'

He talked of the heinousness of the crime of adul-
tery, by which the peace of families was destroyed.
He said, ' Confusion of progeny constitutes the essence
of the crime ; and therefore a woman who breaks her
marriage vows is much more criminal than a man who
does it A man, to be sure, is criminal in the sight of

united with strong intellectual powers and uncommon ardour of soul.
Would he had been a Christian 1 I cannot help earnestly venturing to
hope that he is one now.

[Maupertuis died in 1759 at the age of sixty-two, in the arms of the
Bemoullis, iris Chrltiennement. — B.]

1 [Even Gilbert White was not indisposed to believe this. See his
Stlbome, p. 37, Bohn's edition. — A. B.]

/ET. 59] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 209

God ; but he does not do his wife a material injury, if
he does not insult her ; if, for instance, from mere
wantonness of appetite, he steals privately to her
chambermaid. Sir, a wife ought not greatly to
resent this. I would not receive home a daughter
who had run away from her husband on that account.
A wife should study to reclaim her husband by
more attention to please him. Sir, a man will
not, once in a hundred instances, leave his wife and
go to a harlot, if his wife has not been negligent of
"pleasing.'

Here he discovered that acute discrimination, that
solid judgment, and that knowledge of human nature,
for which he was upon all occasions remarkable.
Taking care to keep in view the moral and religious
duty, as understood in our nation, he showed clearly
from reason and good sense the greater degree of cul-
pability in the one sex deviating from it than the
other ; and, at the same time, inculcated a very useful
lesson as to the way to keep him.

I asked him if it was not hard that one deviation
from chastity should so absolutely ruin a young
woman. Johnson : ' Why no, sir ; it is the great
principle which she is taught. When she has given
up that principle she has given up every notion of
female honour and virtue, which are all included in
chastity.'

A gentleman talked to him of a lady whom he
greatly admired, and wished to marry, but was afraid
of her superiority of talents. ' Sir (said he), ' you need
not be afraid ; marry her. Before a year goes about
you '11 find that reason much weaker, and that wit
not so bright.' Yet the gentleman may be justified

VOL. II. o

A

210 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1768

in his apprehension by one of Dr. Johnson's admirable
sentences in his life of Waller :

'He doubtless praised many -whom he -would have been
afraid to marry ; and, perhaps, married one whom he would
have been ashamed to praise. Many qualities contribute to
domestic happiness, upon which poetry has no colours to
bestow : and many airs and sallies may delight imagination,
which he who flatters them never can approve.'

He praised Signior Baretti. ' His account of Italy-
is a very entertaining book ; and, sir, I know no man
who carries his head higher in conversation than
Baretti. There are strong powers in his mind. He
has not, indeed, many hooks ; but with what hooks
he has, he grapples very forcibly.'

At this time I observed upon a dial-plate of his
watch a short Greek inscription, taken from the New
Testament, Nv^ yap tpx^rai, being the first words of
our Saviour's solemn admonition to the improvement
of that time which is allowed us to prepare for eter-
nity: ^ the night cometh when no man can work.'
He, some time afterwards, laid aside this dial-plate ;
and when I asked him the reason he said, ' It might
do very well upon a clock which a man keeps in his
closet ; but to have it upon his watch which he carries
about with him, and which is often looked at by
others, might be censured as ostentatious.' Mr.
Steevens is now possessed of the dial-plate inscribed
as above.

He remained at Oxford a considerable time ; I was
obliged to go to London, where I received his letter,
which had been returned from Scotland.

^T. 59] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 211

TO JAMES BOSWELLj ESQ.

*My dear BoawBLL, — I have omitted a long time to write to
you, without knowing very well why. I could now tell why
I should not write ; for who would write to men who publish
the letters of their friends without their leave ? Yet I write
to you in spite of my caution, to tell you that I shall be glad
to see you, and that I wish you would empty your head of
Corsica, which I think has filled it rather too long. But, at
aU events, I shall be glad, very glad, to see you. — I am, sir,
yours affectionately, Sam. Johnson.

'Oxford, March 23, 1768.'

I answered thus :

TO MR. SAMUEL JOHNSON

Loiidon, 26th April, 1768.

'My dear Sib, — I have received your last letter, which,
though very short, and by no means complimentary, yet gave
me real pleasure, because it contains these words, " I shall be
glad, very glad to see you." Surely you have no reason to
complain of my publishing a single paragraph of one of your
letters ; the temptation to it was so strong. An irrevocable
grant of your friendship, and your dignifj'ing my desire of
visiting Corsica with the epithet of "a wise and noble
curiosity," are to me more valuable than many of the grants
of kings.

'But how can you bid me "empty my head of Corsica"?
My noble-minded friend, do you not feel for an oppressed
nation bravely struggling to be free ? Consider fairly what is
the case. The Corsicans never received any kindness from
the Genoese. They never agreed to be subject to them. They
owe them nothing, and when reduced to an abject state of
slavery, by force, shall they not rise in the preat cause of
liberty, and break the galling yoke? And shall not every
liberal soul be warm for them ? Empty my head of Corsica !
Empty it of honour, empty it of humanity, empty it of friend-
ship, empty it of piety. No ! while I Uve, Corsica and the

212 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1768

cause of the brave islanders shall ever employ mucli of my
attention, shaU ever interest me in the sincerest manner.
• • • • .

'I am, etc., Jakbs Bobwsli»'

[to MRS. LUCY PORTER, IN LICHFIEIiD

Oxford, April 18, 1768.

'Mt dbab deab Love, — You have had a very great loss.
To lose an old friend is to be cut off from a great part of the
little pleasure that this life allows. But such is the condition
of our nature, that as we live on we must see those whom we
love drop successively, and find our circle of relation gn^ow less
and less, till we are almost unconnected with the world ; and
then it must soon be our turn to drop into the grave. There
is always this consolation, that we have one Protector who can
never be lost but by our own fault, and every new experience
of the tmcertainty of all other comforts should determine us
to fix our hearts where true joys are to be found. All union
with the inhabitants of earth must in time be broken ; and all
the hopes that terminate here, must on [one] part or other end
ia disappointment.

' I am glad that Mrs. Adey and Mrs. Cobb do not leave you
alone. Pay my respects to them, and the Sewards, and all
my friends. When Mr. Porter comes, he will direct you.
Let me know of his arrival, and I wUl write to him.

'When I go back to London, I will take care of your
reading-glass. WTienever I can do anything for you, re-
member, my dear darling, that one of my greatest pleasures
is to please you.

'The punctuality of your correspondence I consider as a
proof of great regard. WTien we shall see each other, I know
not, but let us often think on each other, and think with
tenderness. Do not forget me in your prayers. I have for a
long time hack been very poorly; but of what use is it to
complain ?

' Write often, for your letters always give great pleasure to,
my dear, your most affectionate, and most humble servant,

'Sam. Johnson.']

iET. 59] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 213

Upon his arrival in London in May, lie surprised
me one morning with a visit at my lodging in Half-
Moon Street, was quite satisfied with my explanation,
and was in the kindest and most agreeable frame of
mind. As he had objected to a part of one of his
letters being published, I thought it right to take this
opportunity of asking him explicitly whether it would
be improper to publish his letters after his death.
His answer was, * Nay, sir, when I am dead you may
do as you will.'

He talked in his usual style with a rough contempt
of popular liberty. ' They make a rout about universal
liberty, without considering that all that is to be
valued, or indeed can be enjoyed by individuals, is
private liberty. Political liberty is good only so far
as it produces private liberty. Now, sir, there is the
liberty of the press, which you know is a constant
topic. Suppose you and I and two hundred more
were restrained from printing our thoughts : what
then ? What proportion would that restraint upon us
bear to the private happiness of the nation ? '

This mode of representing the inconveniences of
restraint as light and insignificant, was a kind of
sophistry in which he delighted to indulge himself, in
opposition to the extreme laxity for which it has been
fashionable for too many to argue, when it is evident,
upon reflection, that the very essence of government
is restraint ; and certain it is, that as government pro-
duces rational happiness, too much restraint is better
than too little. But when restraint is unnecessary,
and so close as to gall those who are subject to it, the
people may and ought to remonstrate ; and, if relief is
not granted, to resist. Of this manly and spirited

214 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1768

principle, no man was more convinced than Johnson
himself.

About this time Dr. Kenrick attacked him, through
my sides, in a pamphlet entitled 'An Epistle to James
Boswell, Esq., occasioned by his having transmitted
the moral Writings of Dr. Samuel Johnson to Pascal
Paoli, General of the Corsicans.' I was at first
inclined to answer this pamphlet ; but Johnson, who
knew that my doing so would only gratify Kenrick,
by keeping alive what would soon die away of itself,
would not suffer me to take any notice of it.

His sincere regard for Francis Barber, his faithful
negro servant, made him so desirous of his further
improvement, that he now placed him at a school at
Bishop - Stortford, in Hertfordshire. This humane
attention does Johnson's heart much honour. Out
of many letters which Mr. Barber received from his
master, he has preserved three, which he kindly gave
me, and which I shall insert according to their dates.

TO MR. FRANCIS BARBER

'Dear Francis, — I have been very much, out of order. I
am glad to hear that you are well, and design to come soon to
you. I would have you stay at Mrs. Clapp's for the present,
till I can determine what we shall do. Be a good boy.

'My compliments to 'Mia. Clapp and to Mr. Fowler. — I am,
yours affectionately, Sam. Johkson.

'May 28, 1768.'

Soon afterwai-ds he supped at the Crown and
Anchor tavern in the Strand, with a company whom
I collected to meet him. They were Dr. Percy, now
Bishop of Dromore, Dr. Douglas, now Bishop of
Salisbury, Mr. Langton, Dr. Robertson the historian.
Dr. Hugh Blair, and Mr. Thomas Davies, who wished

^T. 59] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 215

much to be introduced to these eminent Scotch literati ;
but on the present occasion he had very little oppor-
tunity of hearing them talk^ for with an excess of
prudence, for which Johnson afterwards found fault
with them, they hardly opened their lips, and that
only to say something which they were certain would
not expose them to the sword of Goliath ; such was
their anxiety for their fame when in the presence of
Johnson. He was this evening in remarkable vigour
of mind, and eager to exert himself in conversation,
which he did with great readiness and fluency ; but
I am sorry to find that I have preserved but a small
part of what passed.

He allowed high praise to Thomson as a poet ; but
when one of the company said he was also a very good
man, our moralist contested this with great warmth,
accusing him of gross sensuality and licentiousness of
manners. I was very much afraid that in writing
Thomson's life. Dr. Johnson would have treated his
private character with a stern severity, but I was
agreeably disappointed ; and I may claim a little merit
in it, from my having been at pains to send him
authentic accounts of the affectionate and generous
conduct of the poet to his sisters, one of whom, the
wife of Mr, Thomson, schoolmaster at Lanark, I knew,
and was presented by her with three of his letters, one
of which Dr. Johnson has inserted in his life.

He was vehement against old Dr. Mounsey^ of
Chelsea College, as 'a fellow who swore and talked
bawdy.' 'I have been often in his company (said Dr.

1 [Messenger Mounsey, M.D., died at his apartments in Chelsea
College, Dec. 26, 1788, at the great age of ninety-five. An extra-
ordinary direction in his will may be found in the Gentleman's
Magazine, vol. l. p. ii. p. 1183. — M.]

216 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1768

Percy), and never heard him swear or talk bawdy.'
Mr. Davies, who sat next to Dr. Percy, having after
this had some conversation aside with him, made a
discovery which, in hjs zeal to pay court to Dr. John-
son, he eagerly proclaimed aloud from the foot of the
table : ' O, sir, I have found out a very good reason
why Dr. Percy never heard Mounsey swear or talk
bawdy, for he tells me he never saw him but at the
Duke of Northumberland's table.' *^And so, sir (said
Dr. Johnson loudly to Dr. Percy), you would shield
this man from the charge of swearing and talking
bawdy, because he did not do so at the Duke of
Northumberland's table ? Sir, you might as well tell
us that you had seen him hold up his hand at the
Old Bailey, and he neither swore nor talked bawdy ; or
that you had seen him in the cart at Tyburn, and he
neither swore nor talked bawdy. And is it thus, sir,
that you presume to controvert what I have related ? '
Dr. Johnson's animadversion was uttered in such a
manner, that Dr. Percy seemed to be displeased, and
soon afterwards left the company, of which Johnson
did not at that time take any notice.

Swift having been mentioned, Johnson, as usual,
treated him with little respect as an author. Some of
us endeavoured to support the Dean of St. Patrick's,
by various arguments. One in particular praised his
Conduct of the Allies. Johnson : ' Sir, his Conduct of
the Allies is a performance of very little ability.'
' Surely, sir (said Dr. Douglas), you must allow it has
strong facts.' ^ Johnson : ' Why yes, sir ; but what is

1 My respectable friend, upon reading this passage, observed that he
probably must have said not simply 'strong facts," but 'strong facts
well arranged.' His Lordship, however, knows too well the value of
written documents to insist on setting his recollection against my notes

iET. 59] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 217

that to the merit of the composition ? In the Sessions-
paper of the Old Bailey there are strong facts. House-
breaking is a strong fact; robbery is a strong fact;
and murder is a mighty strong fact : but is great
praise due to the historian of those strong facts.''
No, sir. Swift has told what he had to tell distinctly
enough, but that is all. He had to count ten, and he
has counted it right,' Then recollecting that Mr.
Davies, by acting as an informer, had been the
occasion of his talking somewhat too harshly to his
friend. Dr. Percy, for which, probably, when the first
ebullition was over, he felt some compunction, he took
an opportunity to give him a hit: so added, with a
preparatory laugh, ' Why, sir, Tom Davies might have
written the Conduct of the Allies.' Poor Tom being
thus suddenly dragged into ludicrous notice in pre-
sence of the Scottish doctors, to whom he was
ambitious of appearing to advantage, was grievously
mortified. Nor did his punishment rest here ; for
upon subsequent occasions, whenever he, 'statesman
all over,' ^ assumed a strutting importance, I used to
hail him — 'the Author of the Conduct of the Allies.'

When I called upon Dr. Johnson next morning, I
found him highly satisfied \frith his colloquial prowess
the preceding evening. ' Well (said he), we had good
talk.' Boswell: *Yes, sir; you tossed and gored
several persons.'

The late Alexander Earl of Eglintoune, who loved

taken at the time. He does not attempt to traverse the record. The
fact, perhaps, may have been, either that the additional words escaped
me in the noise of a numerous company, or that Dr. Johnson, from his
impetuosity and eagerness to seize an opjjortunity to make a liwly
retort, did not allow Dr. Douglas to finish his sentence.
1 See the hard drawing of him in Churchill's Rosciad.

218 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1769

wit more than wine^ and men of genius more than
sycophants, had a great admiration of Johnson ; but
from the remarkable elegance of his own manners,
was, perhaps, too delicately sensible of the roughness
which sometimes appeared in Johnson's behaviour.
One evening about this time, when his Lordship did
me the honour to sup at my lodgings with Dr. Robert-
son and several other men of literary distinction, he
regretted that Johnson had not been educated with
more refinement, and lived more in polished society.
* No, no, my Lord (said Signior Baretti), do with him
what you would, he would always have been a bear.'
'^True (answered the Earl with a smile), but he would
have been a dancing bear.'

To obviate all the reflections which have gone
round the world to Johnson's prejudice, by applying
to him the epithet of a hear, let me impress upon my
readers a just and happy saying of my friend Gold-
smith, who knew him well : ' Johnson, to be sure, has
a roughness in his manner ; but no man alive has a more
tender heart. He has nothing 0/ the bear but his skin.'

In 17C9, so far as I can discover, the public was
favoured with nothing of Johnson's composition,
either for himself or any of his friends. His Medita-
tions too strongly prove that he suffered much both in
body and mind ; yet was he perpetually striving against
evil, and nobly endeavouring to advance his intellectual
and devotional improvement. E*^ery generous and
grateful heart must feel for the distresses of so
eminent a benefactor to mankind ; and now that his
unhappiness is certainly known, must respect that
dignity of character which prevented him from com-
plaining.

yET. 6o] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 21f>

His Majesty having the preceding year instituted
the Royal Academy of Arts in London, Johnson had
now the honour of being appointed Professor in
Ancient Literature.^ In the course of the year he
wrote some letters to Mrs. Thrale, passed some part
of the summer at Oxford and at Lichfield, and when
at Oxford he wrote the following letter :

TO THE REV, SIR. THOMAS WARTON

' DlEAB Sir, — Many years ago, when I used to read in the
library of your College, I promised to recompense the College
for that permission by adding to their books a Baskerville'a
Virgil. I have now sent it, and desire you to reposit it on the
shelves in my name.^

' If you will be pleased to let mo know when you have an
hour of leisure I will drink tea with you. I am engaged for
the afternoon, to-morrow and on Friday: all my mornings
are my own.^ — I am, etc. Sam. Johnson.

'May 31,1700.'

I came to London in the autumn, and having in-
formed him that I was going to be married in a few
months, I wished to have as much of his conversation

1 In which place he has been succeeded by Bennet Langton, Esq.
When that truly religious gentleman was elected to the honorary-
professorship, at the same time that Edward Gibbon, Esq., noted for
introducing a kind of sneering infidelity into his Historical Writings,
was elected Professor in Ancient History, in the room of Dr. Gold-
smith, I observed that it brought to my mind, ' Wicked Will Whiston
and good Mr. Ditton.' I am now also of that admirable institution as
Secretary for Foreign Correspondence, by the favour of the Academi-
cians and the approbation of the Sovereign.

a 'It has this inscription in a blank leaf: " Hunc librutn D.D.
Samvel Johnson, eo quod hie loci studiis interdutn vacaret." Of this
library, which is an old Gothic room, he was very fond. On my observ-
ing to him that some of the modem libraries of the University were
more commodious and pleasant for study, as being more spacious and
airy, he replied, " .Sir, if a man has a mind to prance he must study at
Christ Church and All Souls." '

8 ' During this visit he seldom or never dined out. He appeared to
be deeply engaged in some literary work. Miss Williams was now
with him at Oxford.'

220 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1769

as I could before engaging in a state of life which
would probably keep me more in Scotland, and pre-
vent me seeing him so often as when I was a single
man ; but I found he was at Brighthelmstone with
Mr. and Mrs. Thrale. I was very sorry that I had
not his company with me at the JubUee, in honour of
Shakespeare, at Stratford-upon-Avon, the great poet's
native town. Johnson's connection both with Shake-
speare and Garrick founded a double claim to his
presence ; and it would have been highly gratifying
to Mr. Garrick. Upon this occasion I particularly
lamented that he had not that warmth of friendship
for his brilliant pupil, which we may suppose would
have had a benignant effect on both. When almost
every man of eminence in the literary world was happy
to partake in this festival of genius, the absence of
Johnson could not but be wondered at and regretted.
The only trace of him there was in the whimsical
advertisement of a haberdasher, who sold Shakesperian
ribands of various dyes ; and, by way of illustrating
their appropriation to the bard, introduced a line
from the celebrated Prologue at the opening of Drury
Lane Theatre :

' Each change of many colour'd life he drew.'

From Brighthelmstone Dr. Johnson wrote me the
following letter, which they who may think that I
ought to have suppressed, must have less ardent feel-
ings than I have always avowed : ^

1 In the Preface to my Account of Corsica, published in 1768, I thus
express myself :

He who publishes a book affecting not to be an author, and pro-
fessing an indifference for literary fame, may possibly impose upon
many people such an idea of his consequence as he wishes may be
received. For my part, I should be proud to be known as an author,

JET. 6o] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 221

TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

' Deab Sib, — Why do you charge me with tmkindness ? I
have omitted nothing that could do you good^ or give you
pleasure, unless it be that I have forborne to tell you my
opinion of your Accov/nt of Corsica. I believe my opinion,
if you think well of my judgment, might have given you
pleasure ; but when it is considered how much vanity is
excited by praise, I am not sure that it would have done you
good. Your History is like other histories, but your Journal
is in a very high degree curious and delightful. There is
between the History and the Journal that difference which
there will always be found between notions borrowed from
without, and notions generated within. Your History was
copied from books : your Journal rose out of your own experi-
ence and observation. You express images which operated
strongly upon yourself, and you have impressed them with
great force upon yovir readers. I know not whether I could
name any narrative by which curiosity is better excited or
better gratified.

' I am glad that you are going to be married ; and as I wish
you well in things of less importance, wish you well with pro-
portionate ardour in this crisis of your life. What I can
contribute to your happiness I should be very unwilling to
withhold ; for I have always loved and valued you, and shall
love you and value you still more, as you become more regular
and visef ul : effects which a happy marriage will hardly fail
to produce.

and I have an ardent ambition for literary fame ; for, of all possessions
I should imagine literary fame to be the most valuable. A man who
has been able to furnish a book, which has been approved by the world,
has established himself as a respectable character in distant society,
without any danger of having that character lessened by the observa-
tion of his weaknesses. To preserve a uniform dignitjf among those
who see us every day is hardly possible ; and to aim at it must put us
under the fetters of perpetual restraint. The author of an approved
book may allow his natural di5:position an ea.sy play, and yet indulge
the pride of superior genius, when he consiciers that by those who
know him only as an author he never ceases to be respected. Such an
author, when in his hours of ^loom and discontent, may have the con-
solation to think that his writmgs are at that very time giving pleasure
to numbers ; and luch an author may cherish the hope of being remem-
bered after death, which has been a great object to the noblest minds
in all ages.'

222 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1769

' I do not find that I am likely to come back very soon from
this place. I shall, perhaps, stay a fortnight longer ; and a
fortnight is a long time to a lover absent from his mistress.
Would a fortnight ever have an end? — I am, dear sir, your
most affectionate humble servant, Sam. Johksojt.

' Brighthelmstone,
'Sept. 9, 1766.'

After his return to town we met frequently, and I
continued the practice of making notes of his conver-
sation, though not with so much assiduity as 1 wish I
had done. At this time, indeed, I had a sufficient
excuse for not being able to appropriate so much time
to my journal ; for General Paoli, after Corsica had
been overpowered by the monarchy of France, was
now no longer at the head of his brave countrymen,
but having with difficulty escaped from his native
island, had sought an asylum in Great Britain : and
it was my duty, as well as my pleasure, to attend
much upon him. Such particulars of Johnson's con-
versation at this period as I have committed to writing
I shall here introduce, without any strict attention to
methodical arrangement. Sometimes short notes of
different days shall be blended together, and some-
times a day may seem important enough to be separ-
ately distinguished.

He said he would not have Sunday kept with rigid
severity and gloom, but with a gravity and simplicity
of behaviour.

I told him that David Hume had made a short col-
lection of Scotticisms. 'I wonder,' said Johnson,
'that he should find them.'^

He would not admit the importance of the question

1 [The first edition of Hume's H isiory of England viSlS full of Scot-
ticisms, many of which he corrected in subsequent editions. — M.]

^T. 6o] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 223

concerning the legality of general warrants. ' Such a
power,' he observed, 'must be vested in every govern-
ment, to answer particular cases of necessity ; and
there can be no just complaint but when it is abused,
for which those who administer government must be
answerable. It is a matter of such indifference, a
matter about which the people care so very little, that
were a man to be sent over Britain to offer them an
exemption from it at a halfpenny apiece, very few
would purchase it.' This was a specimen of that
laxity of talking, which I had heard him fairly acknow-
ledge ; for, surely, while the power of granting general
warrants was supposed to be legal, and tlie apprehen-
sion of them hung over our heads, we did not possess
that security of freedom congenial to our happy con-
stitution, and which, by the intrepid exertions of Mr.
Wilkes, has been happily established.

He said : 'The duration of Parliament, whether for
seven years or the life of the king, appears to me so
immaterial, that I would not give half-a-crown to turn
the scale one way or the other. The habeas corpus is
the single advantage which our government has over
that of other countries.'

On the 30th of September we dined together at the
Mitre, I attempted to argue for the superior happi-
ness of the savage life, upon the usual fanciful topics.
Johnson : ' Sir, there can be nothing more false. The
savages have no bodily advantages beyond those of
civilised men. They have not better health ; and as
to care and mental uneasiness, they are not above it,
but below it, like bears. No, sir, you are not to talk
such paradox : let me have no more on 't. It cannot
entertain, far less can it instruct. Lord Monboddo,

224 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1766

one of your Scotch judges, talked a great deal of such
nonsense. I suffered him ; but I will not suffer you.'
BoswELL : ' But, sir, does not Rousseau talk such
nonsense ? ' Johnson : ' True, sir, but Rousseau knows
he is talking nonsense, and laughs at the world for
staring at him.' Boswell : 'How so, sir?' John-
son : ' Why, sir, a man who talks nonsense so well,
must know that he is talking nonsense. But I am
afraid (chuckling and laughing), Monboddo does not
know that he is talking nonsense.' ^ Boswell : ' Is it
wrong then, sir, to affect singularity, in order to make
people stare .'' ' Johnson : ' Yes, if you do it by pro-
pagating error : and, indeed, it is wrong in any way.
There is in human nature a general inclination to
make people stare ; and every wise man has himself
to cure of it, and does cure himself. If you wish to
make people stare by doing better than others, why,
make them stare till they stare their eyes out. But
consider how easy it is to make people stare, by being
absurd. I may do it by going into a drawing-room
without my shoes. You remember the gentleman in
the Spectator, who had commission of lunacy taken
out against him for his extreme singularity, such as
never wearing a wig, but a night-cap. Now, sir,
abstractedly, the night-cap was best ; but, relatively,
the advantage was overbalanced by his making the
boys run after him.'

Talking of a London life, he said : 'The happiness

1 His Lordship having frequently spoken in an abusive manner of
Dr. Johnson, in my company, I on one occasion during the lifetime of
my illustrious friend could not refrain from retaliation, and repeated
to him this saying. He has since published I don't know how many
pa^es in one of his curious books, attempting, in much anger, but with
pitiful effect, to persuade mankind that my illustrious friend was not
the great and good man which they esteemed and ev«r will esteem him
tobc

AET. 6o] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 225

of London is not to be conceived but by those who
have been in it. I will venture to say^ there is more
learning and science within the circumference of ten
mUes from where we now sit, than in all the rest of
the kingdom.' Boswell : ' The only disadvantage is
the great distance at which people live from one an-
other.' Johnson: 'Yes, sir; but that is occasioned
by the largeness of it, which is the cause of all the
other advantages.' Boswell : ' Sometimes I have
been in the humour of wishing to retire to a desert.'
Johnson : 'Sir, you have desert enough in Scotland.'
Although I had promised myself a great deal of
instructive conversation with him on the conduct of
the married state, of which I had then a near prospect,
he did not say much upon that topic. Mr. Seward
heard him once say, that ' a man has a very bad chance
for happiness in that state, unless he marries a woman
of very strong and fixed principles of religion.' He
maintained to me, contrary to the common notion,
that a woman would not be the worse wife for being
learned ; in which, from all that I have observed of
Artemisias, I humbly difiFered from him. That a
woman should be sensible and well informed, I allow
to be a great advantage ; and think that Sir Thomas
Overbury,^ in his rude versification, has very judici-
ously pointed out that degree of intelligence which is
to be desired in a female companion :

' Give me, next good, an understanding wife,
By Nature wise, not learned by much art ;

Some knowledge on her side will all my life
More scope of conversation impart ;

Besides, her inborne virtue f ortifie ;
They are most firmly good, who best know why.*

1 ' A Wife,' a poem, 1614.
VOL. II. P

226 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1769

When I censured a gentleman of my acquaintance
for marrying a second time, as it showed a disregard
of his first wife, he said, ' Not at all, sir. On the
contrary, were he not to marry again, it might be
concluded that his first wife had given him a disgust
to marriage ; but by taking a second wife he pays the
highest compliment to the first, by showing that she
made him so happy as a married man, that he wishes
to be so a second time.' So ingenious a turn did he
give to this delicate question. And yet, on another
■occasion, he owned that he once had almost asked a
promise of Mrs. Johnson that she would not marry
again, but had checked himself. Indeed I cannot help
thinking, that in his case the request would have been
unreasonable ; for if Mrs. Johnson forgot, or thought
it no injury to the memory of her first love, — ^the
husband of her youth and the father of her children,
— ^to make a second marriage, why should she be pre-
cluded from the third, should she be so inclined .'' In
Johnson's persevering fond appropriation of his Tetty,
even after her decease, he seems totally to have over-
looked the prior claim of the honest Birmingham
trader. I presume that her having been married
before had, at times, given him some uneasiness ; for
I remember his observing upon the marriage of one
of our common friends, ' He has done a very foolish
thing, sir ; he has married a widow, when he might
have had a maid.'

We drank tea with Mrs. Williams. I had last year
the pleasure of seeing Mrs. Thrale at Dr. Johnson's one
morning, and had conversation enough with her to ad-
mire her talents ; and to show her that I was as John-
•sonian as herself. Dr. Johnson had probably been

^T. 6o] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 227

kind enough to speak well of me, for this evening he
delivered me a very polite card from Mr. Thrale and
her, inviting me to Streatham.

On the 6th of October I complied with this obliging
invitation, and found, at an elegant villa, six miles
from town, every circumstance that can make society
pleasing. Johnson, though quite at home, was yet
looked up to with an awe, tempered by affection, and
seemed to be equally the care of his host and hostess.
I rejoiced at seeing him so happy.

He played off his wit against Scotland with a good-
humoured pleasantry, which gave me, though no bigot
to national prejudices, an opportunity for a little con-
test with him. I having said that England was obliged
to us for gardeners, almost all their good gardeners
being Scotsmen. Johnson : ' Why, sir, that is be-
cause gardening is much more necessary amongst you
than with us, which makes so many of your people
learn it. It is aU gardening with you. Things which
grow wild here must be cultivated with great care in
Scotland. Pray now (throwing himself back in his
chair, and laughing), are you ever able to bring the
sloe to perfection } '

I boasted that we had the honour of being the first
to abolish the unhospitable, troublesome, and ungra-
cious custom of giving veils to servants. Johnson :
' Sir, you abolished veils because you were too poor to
be able to give them.'

Mrs. Thrale disputed with him on the merit of
Prior. He attacked him powerfully ; said he wrote
of love like a man who had never felt it : his love
verses were college verses ; and he repeated the song
* Alexis shunn'd his fellow swains,' etc., in so ludicrous

228 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1769

a manner, as to make us all wonder how any one
could have been pleased with such fantastical stuff.
Mrs. Thrale stood to her gun with great courage, in
defence of amorous ditties, which Johnson despised,
till he at last sUenced her by saying, ' My dear lady,
talk no more of this. Nonsense can be defended but
by nonsense.'^

Mrs. Thrale then praised Garrick's talents for light,
gay poetry ; and, as a specimen, repeated his song in
' Florizel and Perdita,' and dwelt with peculiar pleasure
on this line :

'I'd smile with the simple, and feed with the poor.'

Johnson: *Nay, my dear Lady, this will never do.
Poor David ! SmUe with the simple ; — ^What folly is
that? And who would feed with the poor that can
help it ? No, no ; let me smUe with the wise, and
feed with the rich.' I repeated this sally to Garrick,
and wondered to find his sensibility as a writer not a
little irritated by it. To soothe him, I observed, that
Johnson spared none of us ; and I quoted the passage
in Horace, in which he compares one who attacks his
friends for the sake of a laugh, to a pushing ox, that
is marked by a bunch of hay put upon his horns :
f(£num hahet in cornu. 'Ay (said Garrick vehemently),
he has a whole mow of it.'

Talking of history, Johnson said : ' We may know
historical facts to be true, as we may know facts in
common life to be true. Motives are generally un-
known. We cannot trust to the characters we find in
history, unless when they are drawn by those who

1 [As a set-off against this may be mentioned John Wesley's great
appreciation of Prior's poetry. See his admirable Essay on the
Character and Writings of Mr. Prior. Works, xiii. p. 380-7. — A. B.]

JET.Gd] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 229

knew the persons ; as those, for instance, by Sallust
and by Lord Clarendon.'

He would not allow much merit to Whitefield's
oratory. ' His popularity, sir (said he), is chiefly
owing to the peculiarity of his manner. He would be
followed by crowds were he to wear a night-cap in the
pulpit, or were he to preach from a tree.'

I know not from what spirit of contradiction he
burst out into a violent declamation against the
Corsicans, of whose heroism I talked in high terms.
' Sir (said he), what is all this rout about the Corsicans?
They have been at war with the Genoese for upwards
of twenty years, and have never yet taken their forti-
fied towns. They might have battered down their
walls, and reduced them to powder in twenty years.
They might have pulled the walls in pieces, and
cracked the stones with their teeth in twenty years.'
It was in vain to argue with him upon the want of
artillery : he was not to be resisted for the moment.

On the evening of October 10, I presented Dr.
Johnson to General Paoli. I had greatly wished
that two men, for whom I had the highest esteem,
should meet. They met with a manly ease, mutually
conscious of their own abilities, and of the abilities
of each other. The General spoke Italian, and Dr.
Johnson English, and understood one another very
well, with a little aid of interpretation from me, in
which I compared myself to an isthmus which joins
two great continents. Upon Johnson's approach, the
General said, ' From what I have read of your works,
sir, and from what Mr. Boswell has told me of you,
I have long held you in great veneration.' The
General talked of languages being formed on the

230 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1769

particular notions and manners of a people, without
knowing which we cannot know the language. We
may know the direct signification of single words ;
but by these no beauty of expression, no sally of
genius, no wit is conveyed to the mind. All this must
be by allusion to other ideas. 'Sir (said Johnson),
you talk of language as if you had never done any-
thing else but study it, instead of governing a nation.'
The General said, * Questo ^ un troppo gran compli-
mento ' ; this is too great a compliment. Johnson
answered, ' I should have thought so, sir, if I had not
heard you talk.' The General asked him what he
thought of the spirit of infidelity which was so pre-
valent .'' Johnson : ' Sir, this gloom of infidelity, I
hope, is only a transient cloud passing through the
hemisphere, which wUl soon be dissipated, and the
sun break forth with his usual splendour.' 'You think,
then (said the General), that they will change their
principles like their clothes ? ' Johnson : * Why, sir,
if they bestow no more thought on principles than on
dress, it must be so.' The General said, that * a great
part of the fashionable infidelity was owing to a desire
of showing courage. Men who have no opportunities
of showing it as to things in this life, take death and
futurity as objects on which to display it.' Johnson :
'That is mighty foolish afi"ectation. Fear is one of
the passions of human nature, of which it is impos-
sible to divest it. You remember that the Emperor
Charles v. when he read upon the tombstone of a
Spanish nobleman, ''Here lies one who never knew
fear," wittily said, ** Then he never snuffed a candle
with his fingers.'"

He talked a few words of French to the General ;

JET. 66] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 231

but finding he did not do it with facility he asked for
pen, inkj and paper, and wrote the following note :

' J'ai lu dans la geographic de Lucas de lAnda un
Pater-noster ecrit dans une langue tout-a-fait differente
de ritalienne, et de toutes autres lesquelles se derivent du
Latin. L'auteur I'appelle linguam CorsicaB rusticam ;
elle a peut-etre passe, peu a peu ; mais elle a certaine-
ment prevalue autrefois dans les montagnes et dans la
campagne. Le meme auteur dit la mime chose en parl-
ant de Sardaigne ; qu'il y a deux langues dans I' Isle,
une des villes, I' autre de la campagne.'

The General immediately informed him that the
lingua rustica was only in Sardinia.

Dr. Johnson went home with me, and drank tea till
late in the night. He said : ' General Paoli had the
loftiest port of any man he had ever seen.' He denied
that military men were always the best-bred men.
' Perfect good breeding,' he observed, ' consists in
having no particular mark of any profession, but a
general elegance of manners ; whereas, in a military
man, you can commonly distinguish the brand of a
soldier, I'homme d'ep^e.'

Dr. Johnson shunned to-night any discussion of
the perplexed question of fate and free-will, which I
attempted to agitate : ' Sir (said he), we know our will
is free, and there's an end on't.'

He honoured me with his company at dinner on the
16th of October, at my lodgings in Old Bond Street,
with Sir Joshua Reynolds, Mr. Garrick, Dr. Gold-
smith, Mr. Murphy, Mr, BickerstaiF, and Mr. Thomas
Davies. Garrick played round him with a fond
vivacity, taking hold of the breasts of his coat, and
looking up in his face with a lively archness, com-

232 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1769

plimented him on the good health which he seemed
then to enjoy ; while the sage, shaking his head,
heheld him with a gentle complacency. One of the
company not being come at the appointed hour, I pro-
posed, as usual upon such occasions, to order dinner
to be served; adding, 'Ought six people to be kept
waiting for one .'' ' * Why, yes (answered Johnson,
with a delicate humanity), if the one will suffer more
by your sitting down than the six will do by waiting.'
Goldsmith, to divert the tedious minutes, strutted
about, bragging of his dress, and I believe was seriously
vain of it, for his mind was wonderfully prone to such
impressions. ' Come, come (said Garrick), talk no
more of that. You are, perhaps, the worst — eh, eh ! '
— Goldsmith was eagerly attempting to interrupt him,
when Garrick went on, laughing ironically, 'Naj',
you will always look like a gentleman ; but I am
talking of being well or ill drest.' 'Well, let me tell
you (said Goldsmith), when my tailor brought home
my bloom-coloured coat, he said, " Sir, I have a favour
to beg of you. When anybody asks you who made
your clothes, be pleased to mention John Filby, at the
Harrow, in Water Lane.'" Johnson: 'Why, sir,
that was because he knew the strange colour would
attract crowds to gaze at it, and thus they might hear
of him, and see how well he could make a coat even
of so absurd a colour.'

After dinner our conversation first turned upon
Pope. Johnson said, his characters of men were
admirably drawn, those of women not so welL He
repeated to us, in his forcible melodious manner, the
concluding lines of the Dunciad. While he was talk-
ing loudly in praise of those lines one of the company

iET. 6o] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 233

ventured to say, ' Too fine for such a poem : — a poem
on what ? ' Johnson (with a disdainful look) : ' Why,
on dunces. It was worth while being a dunce then.
Ah, sir, hadst thou lived in those days ! It is not
worth while being a dunce now, when there are no
wits. ' Bickerstaff observed, as a peculiar circumstance,
that Pope's fame was higher when he was alive than
it was then. Johnson said, his Pastorals were poor
things, though the versification was fine. He told us,
with high satisfaction, the anecdote of Pope's inquiring
who was the author of his London, and saying, he
will be soon deterrd. He observed, that in Dryden's
poetry there were passages drawn from a profundity
which Pope could never reach. He repeated some
fine lines on love by the former (which I have now
forgotten), and gave great applause to the character
of Zimri. Goldsmith said that Pope's character of
Addison showed a deep knowledge of the human
heart Johnson said, that the description of the
temple in The Mourning Bride ^ was the finest poetical
passage he had ever read ; he recollected none in
Shakespeare equal to it. 'But (said Garrick, all
alarmed for " the god of his idolatry "), we know
not the extent and variety of his powers. We are
to suppose there are such passages in his works.
Shakespeare must not sufi'er from the badness of our
memories.' Johnson, diverted by this enthusiastic
jealousy, went on with great ardour : ' No, sir ;
Congrave has nature' (smiling on the tragic eagerness
of Garrick) ; but composing himself, he added, ' Sir,
this is not comparing Congreve on the whole with

1 [Act ii. sc 3. — M.]

234 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1769

Shakespeare on the whole ; but only maintaining that
Congreve has one finer passage than any that can be
found in Shakespeare. Sir, a man may have no more
than ten guineas in the world, but he may have those
ten guineas in one piece ; and so may have a finer
piece than a man who has ten thousand pound : but
then he has only one ten-guinea piece. Wliat I mean
is, that you can show me no passage where there is
simply a description of material objects, without any
intermixture of moral notions, whiA produces such
an efi"ect.' Mr. Murphy mentioned Shakespeare's
description of the night before the battle of Agincourt ;
but it was observed it had men in it. Mr. Davies
suggested the speech of Juliet, in which she figures
herself awaking in the tomb of her ancestors. Some
one mentioned the description of Dover Cliff. John-
son : ' No, sir ; it should be all precipice, — all vacuum.
The crows impede your fall. The diminished appear-
ance of the boats, and other circumstances, are all
very good description, but do not impress the mind
at once with the horrible idea of immense height.
The impression is divided ; you pass on by compu-
tation from one stage of the tremendous space to
another. Had the girl in The Mourning Bride said,
she could not cast her shoe to the top of one of the
pillars in the temple, it would not have aided the idea,
but weakened it.'

Talking of a Barrister who had a bad utterance,
some one (to rouse Johnson) wickedly said, that he
was unfortunate in not having been taught oratory
by Sheridan. Johnson : ' Nay, sir, if he had been
taught by Sheridan he would have cleared the room. '
Gabrick : * Sheridan has too much vanity to be a

^T. 6o] LIFE OF DIL JOHNSON 235

good man.' We shall now see Johnson's mode of
defending a man ; taking him into his own hands, and
discriminating. Johnson : ' No, sir. There is, to he
sure, in Sheridan, something to reprehend and every-
thing to laugh at ; but, sir, he is not a bad man. No,
sir ; were mankind to be divided into good and bad, he
would stand considerably within the ranks of good.
And, sir, it must be allowed that Sheridan excels in
plain declamation, though he can exhibit no character.'

I should, perhaps, have suppressed this disquisition
concerning a person of whose merit and worth I think
with respect, had he not attacked Johnson so out-
rageously in his Life of Svnft, and, at the same time,
treated us his admirers as a set of pigmies. He who
has provoked the lash of wit cannot complain that he
smarts from it.

Mrs. Montague, a lady distinguished for having
written an Essay on Shakespeare, being mentioned ; —
Reynolds: 'I think that essay does her honour.'
Johnson : ' Yes, sir ; it does her honour, but it would
do nobody else honour. I have, indeed, not read it
alL But when I take up the end of a web, and find
it pack-thread, I do not expect, by looking farther, to
find embroidery. Sir, I will venture to say there
is not one sentence of true criticism in her book.'
Gabrick : ' But, sir, surely it shows how much Voltaire
has mistaken Shakespeare, which nobody else has
done.' Johnson : * Sir, nobody else has thought it
worth while. And what merit is there in that ? You
may as well praise a schoolmaster for whipping a boy
who has construed ill. No, sir, there is no real
criticism in it : none showing the beauty of thought,
as formed on the workings of the human heart'

236 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1769

The admirers of this Essay ^ may be offended at the
slighting manner in which Johnson spoke of it ; but
let it be remembered that he gave his honest opinion
unbiassed by any prejudice or any proud jealousy of
a woman intruding herself into the chair of criticism ;
for Sir Joshua Reynolds has told me that when the
Essay first came out, and it was not known who had
written it, Johnson wondered how Sir Joshua could
like it At this time Sir Joshua himself had received
no information concerning the author, except being
assured by one of our most eminent literati, that it
was clear its author did not know the Greek tragedies
in the original. One day at Sir Joshua's table, when
it was related that Mrs. Montague, in an excess of
compliment to the author of a modern tragedy, had
exclaimed, ' I tremble for Shakespeare ' ; Johnson said,

' When Shakespeare has got for his rival, and

Mrs. Montague for his defender, he is in a poor state
indeed.'

Johnson proceeded : * The Scotsman * has taken
the right method in his Elements of Criticism,' I do
not mean that he has taught us anything ; but he has
told us old things in a new way. ' Murphy : ' He
seems to have read a great deal of French criticism,
and wants to make it his own ; as if he had been for

1 Of whom I acknowledge myself to be one, considering it as a piece
of the secondary or comparative species of criticism, and not of that
profound species which alone Dr. Johnson would allow to be ' real
criticism.' It is, besides, clearly and elegantly expressed, and has
done effectually what it jjrofessed to do, namely, vindicated Shakespeare
irom the misrepresentations of Voltaire ; and considering how many
young people were misled by his witty, though false observations, Mrs.
Montagues Essay was of service to Shakespeare with a certain class
of readers, and is, therefore, entitled to praise. Johnson, I am assured,
allowed the merit which I have stated, saying (with reference to
Voltaire), it is conclusive ad hominetn.'

2 Lord Karnes.

iET. 6o] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 237

years anatomising the heart of man, and peeping into
every cranny of it. ' Goldsmith : ' It is easier to write
that book than to read it.' Johnson: 'We have an
example of true criticism in Burke's Essay on the
Sublime and Beautiful; and, if I recollect, there is
also Du Bos ; and Bouhours, who shows all beauty to
depend on truth. There is no great merit in telling
how many plays have ghosts in them, and how this
ghost is better than that. You must show how terror
is impressed on the human heart. In the description
of night in Macbeth, the beetle and the bat detract
from the general idea of darkness — inspissated
gloom.'

Politics being mentioned, he said : ' This petition-
ing is a new mode of distressing government, and a
mighty easy one. I will undertake to get petitions
either against quarter guineas or half guineas, with the
help of a little hot wine. There must be no yielding
to encourage this. The object is not important enough.
We are not to blow up half a dozen palaces, because
one cottage is burning.'

The conversation then took another turn. Johnson r
* It is amazing what ignorance of certain points one
sometimes finds in men of eminence. A wit about
town, who wrote Latin bawdy verses, asked me how it
happened that England and Scotland, which were once
two kingdoms, were now one ; and Sir Fletcher Norton
did not seem to know that there were such publica-
tions as the Reviews.

' The ballad of Hardyknute has no great merit, if it
be really ancient. People talk of nature. But mere
obvious nature may be exhibited with very little power
of mind.'

238 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1769

On Thursday, October 19, 1 passed the evening with
him at his house. He advised me to complete a
dictionary of words peculiar to Scotland, of which
I showed him a specimen. 'Sir (said he), Ray has
made a collection of north-country wftrds. By collect-
ing those of your country, you will do a useful thing
towards the history of the language.' He bade me
also go on with collections which I was making upon
the antiquities of Scotland. ' Make a large book ; a
folio.' Bos WELL : ' But of what use will it be, sir ? '
Johnson : ' Never mind the use ; do it. '

I complained that he had not mentioned Garrick in
his Preface to Shakespeare ; and asked him if he did
not admire him. Johnson ; ' Yes, as " a poor player,
who frets and struts his hour upon the stage " — as a
shadow.' BoswELL : ' But has he not brought Shake-
speare into notice .'' ' Johnson : * Sir, to allow that
would be to lampoon the age. Many of Shakespeare's
plays are the worse for being acted : Macbeth, for
instance.' Boswell: 'What, sir, is nothing gained
by decoration and action } Indeed, I do wish that you
had mentioned Garrick.' Johnson: 'My dear sir,
had I mentioned him, I must have mentioned many
more; Mrs. Pritchard, Mrs. Gibber, — nay, and Mr.
Gibber too ; he too altered Shakespeare.' Boswell:
' You have read his Apology, sir ? ' Johnson : ' Yes,
it is very entertaining. But as for Gibber himself,
taking from his conversation all that he ought not to
have said, he was a poor creature. I remember when
he brought me one of his Odes to have my opinion
of it, I could not bear such nonsense, and would
not let him read it to the end ; so little respect
had I for that great man ! (laughing.) Yet I re-

^T. 6o] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 239

member Richardson wondering that I could treat him
with familiarity.'

I mentioned to him that I had seen the execution of
several convicts at Tyburn, two days before, and that
none of them seemed to be under any concern.
Johnson : ' Most of them, sir, have never thought at
alL' BoswELL : 'But is not the fear of death natural
to man ? ' Johnson : ' So much so, sir, that the whole
of life is but keeping away the thoughts of it.' He
then, in a low and earnest tone, talked of his meditat-
ing upon the awful hour of his own dissolution, and
in what manner he should conduct himself upon that
occasion : ' I know not (said he) whether I should wish
to have a friend by me, or have it all between God and
myself. '

Talking of our feeling for the distresses of others —
Johnson : ' Why, sir, there is much noise made about
it, but it is greatly exaggerated. No, sir, we have a
certain degree of feeling to prompt us to do good ;
more than that. Providence does not intend. It would
be misery to no purpose.' Boswell : ' But suppose
now, sir, that one of your intimate friends were appre-
hended for an offence for which he might be hanged.'
Johnson : ' I should do what I could to bail him, and
give him any other assistance ; but if he were once
fairly hanged, I should not suffer.' Boswell: 'Would
you eat your dinner that day, sir ? ' Johnson : * Yes,
sir, and eat it as if he were eating with me. Why,
there 's Baretti, who is to be tried for his life to-
morrow, friends have risen up for him on every side ;
yet if he should be hanged, none of them will eat a
slice of plum-pudding the less. Sir, that sympathetic
feeling goes a very little way in depressing the mind.'

240 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1769

I told him that I had dined lately at Foote's, who
showed me a letter which he had received from Tom
Davies, telling him that he had not been able to sleep
from the concern he felt on account of ' this sad affair
of Baretti^ begging of him to try if he could suggest
anything that might be of service ; and^ at the same
time, recommending to him an industrious young man
who kept a pickle-shop. Johnson : ' Ay, sir, here you
have a specimen of human sympathy ; a friend hanged
and a cucumber pickled. We know not whether
Baretti or the pickle-man has kept Davies from sleep ;
nor does he know himself. And as to his not sleeping,
sir ; Tom Davies is a very great man ; Tom has been
upon the stage, and knows how to do those things : I
have not been upon the stage, and cannot do those
things.' BoswELL : '\ have often blamed myself, sir,
for not feeling for others as sensibly as many say they
do.' Johnson: 'Sir, don't be duped by them any
more. You will find these very feeling people are not
very ready to do you good. They par/ you hj feeling.'

BoswELL : ' Foote has a great deal of humour. '
Johnson : ' Yes, sir. ' Boswell : * He has a singular
talent of exhibiting character.' Johnson : ' Sir, it is
not a talent ; it is a vice ; it is what others abstain
from. It is not comedy which exhibits the character
of a species, as that of a miser gathered from many
misers : it is farce which exhibits individuals.' Bos-
WEiit: *Did not he think of exhibiting you, sir.^'
Johnson : ' Sir, fear restrained him ; he knew I would
have broken his bones. I would have saved him the
trouble of cutting off a leg ; I would not have left
him a leg to cut off. ' Boswell : ' Pray, sir, is not
Foote an infidel } ' Johnson : ' I do not know, sir.

XT.6d\ LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 241

that the fellow is an infidel ; but if he be an infidel,
he is an infidel as a dog is an infidel ; that is to say,
he has never thought upon the subject' ^ Boswell :
' I suppose, sir, he has thought superficially, and
seized the first notions which occurred to his mind.'
Johnson : ' Why then, sir, still he is like a dog, that
snatches the piece next him. Did you never observe
that dogs have not the power of comparing ? A dog
will take a small bit of meat as readily as a large, when
both are before him.'

' Buchanan (he observed) has fewer centos than any
modem Latin poet He has not only had great know-
ledge of the Latin language, but was a great poetical
genius. Both the Scaligers praise him.'

He again talked of the passage in Congreve with
high commendation, and said, ' Shakespeare never
has six lines together without a fault. Perhaps you
may find seven : but this does not refute my general
assertion. If I come to an orchard and say there 's
no fruit here, and then comes a poring man who finds
two apples and three pears, and tells me, " Sir, you
are mistaken, I have found both apples and pears,"
I should laugh at him : what would that be to the
purpose.'''

1 When Mr. Foote was at_ Edinbtirgh he thought fit to entertain a
numerous Scotch company with a great deal of coarse jocularity, at the
expense of Dr. Johnson, imagining it would be acceptable. I felt this
as not civil to me ; but sat very patiently till he had exhausted his
merriment on that subject ; ancf then observed that surely Johnson
must be allowed to have some sterling wit, and that I heard him say a
very good thing of Mr. Foote himself ' Ah, my old friend Sam (cried
FooteJ, no man says better things ; do let us have it.' Upon which I
told the above story, which produced a very loud laugh from the com-
pany. But I never saw Foote so disconcerted. He looked grave and
angry, and entered into a serious refutation of the justice of the remark.
' What, sir (said he), talk thus of a man of liberal education : — a man
who for years was at the University of Oxford : — a man who has added
sixteen new characters to the English drama of his country 1 '

TCI.. II. Q

242 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1769

BoswELL : * What do you think of Dr. Young's
Night Thoughts, sir } ' Johnson : ' Why, sir, there
are very fine things in them.' Boswell: 'Is there
not less religion in the nation now, sir, than there was
formerly?' Johnson: 'I don't know, sir, that there
is.' Boswell : ' For instance, there used to be a
chaplain in every great family, which we do not find
now.' Johnson : ' Neither do you find any of the
state servants which great families used formerly to
have. There is a change of modes in the whole
department of life.'

Next day, October 20, he appeared, for the only
time I suppose in his life, as a witness in a Court of
Justice, being called to give evidence to the character
of Mr. Baretti, who having stabbed a man in the
sti-eet, was arraigned at the Old Bailey for murder.
Never did such a coHStellation of genius enlighten the
awful Sessions House, emphatically called Justice
Hall ; Mr. Burke, Mr. Garrick, Mr. Beauclerk, and
Dr. Johnson ; and undoubtedly their favourable tes-
timony had due weight with the Court and Jury.
Johnson gave his evidence in a slow, deliberate, and
distinct manner, which was uncommonly impressive.
It is well known that Mr. Baretti was acquitted.

On the 26th of October we dined together at the
Mitre tavern. I found fault with Foote for indulging
his talent of ridicule at the expense of his visitors,
which I colloquially termed making fools of his com-
pany. Johnson : ' Why, sir, when you go to see
Foote you do not go to see a saint : you go to see a
man who will be entertained at your house, and then
bring you on a public stage ; who will entertain you
at his house for the very purpose of bringing you on

iET. 6o] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 243

a public stage. Sir, he does not make fools of his
company ; they whom he exposes are fools already ;
he only brings them into action.'

Talking of trade, he observed : ' It is a mistaken
notion that a vast deal of money is brought into a
nation by trade. It is not so. Commodities come
from commodities ; but trade produces no capital
accession of wealth. However, though there should
be little profit in money, there is a considerable profit
in pleasure, as it gives to one nation the productions
of another ; as we have wines and fruits and many
other foreign articles brought to us.' Bosweix : ' Yes,
sir, and there is a profit in pleasure by its furnishing
occupation to such numbers of mankind.' Johnson :
' Why, sir, you cannot call that pleasure to which all
are averse, and which none begin but with the hope
of leaving off ; a thing which men dislike before they
have tried it, and when they have tried it.' Boswell :
* But, sir, the mind must be employed, and we grow
weary when idle.' Johnson : ' That is, sir, because
others being busy we want company ; but if we were
all idle there would be no growing weary ; we should
all entertain one another. There is, indeed, this in
trade : — it gives men an opportunity of improving
their situation. If there were no trade, many who
are poor would always remain poor. But no man
loves labour for itself.' Boswell : 'Yes, sir, I know
a person who does. He is a very laborious judge, and
he loves the labour.' Johnson : 'Sir, that is because
he loves respect and distinction. Could he have them
without labour he would like it less.' Boswell : * He
tells me he likes it for itself.' — 'Why, sir, he fancies
so, because he is not accustomed to abstract.

244 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1769

We went home to his house to tea. Mi-s. Williams
made it with sufficient dexterity, notwithstanding her
blindness, though her manner of satisfying herself
that the cups were full enough appeared to me a little
awkward; for I fancied she put her finger down a
certain way till she felt the tea touch it. ^ In my first
elation at being allowed the prirUege of attending
Dr. Johnson at his late visits to this lady, which was
like being e secretioribus consiliis, I wUlingly drank
cup after cup, as if it had been the Heliconian spring.
But as the charm of novelty went off I grew more
fastidious; and besides, I discovered that she was
of a peevish temper.

There was a pretty large circle this evening. Dr.
Johnson was in very good humour, lively, and ready
to talk upon all subjects. Mr. Fergusson, the self-
taught philosopher, told him of a new-invented
machine which went without horses : a man who sat
in it turned a handle, which worked a spring that
drove it forward. * Then, sir (said Johnson), what is
gained is, the man has his choice whether he wUl
move himself alone, or himself and the machine too.'
Dominicetti being mentioned, he would not allow him
any merit. ' There is nothing in all this boasted
system. No, sir ; medicated baths can be no better
than warm water : their only effect can be that of
tepid moisture.' One of the company took the other
side, maintaining that medicines of various sorts, and
some too of most powerful effect, are introduced into

1 I have since had reason to think that I was mistaken ; far I have
been informed by a lady, who was long intimate with her, and likely
to be a more accurate observer of such matterSj that she had acquired
such a niceness of touch as to know, by the feeling on the outside of the
cup, how near it was to being full.

iET.6o] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 245

the human frame hy the medium of the pores ; and,
therefore, when warm water is impregnated vnith
salutiferous substances, it may produce great effects
as a bath. This appeared to me very satisfactory.
Johnson did not answer it; but talking for victory,
and determined to be master of the field, he had
recourse to the device which Goldsmith imputed to
him in the witty words of one of Gibber's comedies :
* Here is no arguing with Johnson ; for when his
pistol misses fire, he knocks you down with the butt-
end of it' He turned to the gentleman, 'Well, sir,
go to Dominicetti, and get thyself fumigated ; but be
sure that the steam be directed to thy head, for that
is the peccant part' This produced a triumphant roar
of laughter from the motley assembly of philosophers,
printers, and dependants, male and female.

I know not how so whimsical a thought came into
my mind, but I asked, * If, sir, you were shut up in
a castle, and a new-born child wilfti you, what would
you do ? ' Johnson : ' Why, sir, I should not much
like ray company.' Bosweli.: 'But would you take
the trouble of rearing it.-"' He seemed, as may be
supposed, unwilling to pursue the subject : but upon
my persevering in my question, replied, 'Why yes,
sir, I would ; but I iftust have all conveniences. If I
bad no garden, I would make a shed on the roof, and
take it there for fresh air. I should feed it, and wash
it much, and with warm water, to please it, no* with
cold water to give it pain.* Boswell : ' But, sir, does
not heat relax ? ' Johnson ; ' Sir, you are not to
imagine the water is to be very hot. I would not
coddle the child. No, sir, the hardy method of treat-
ing children does no good. I 'U take yoa five children

246 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1769

from London, who shall cufF five Highland children.
• Sir, a man bred in London will carry a burden, or run,
or wrestle, as well as a man brought up in the hardest
manner in the country.' Boswell: *^Good living, I
suppose, makes the Londoners strong. ' Johnson :
' Why, sir, I don't know that it does. Our chairmen
from Ireland, who are as strong men as any, have been
brought up upon potatoes. Quantity makes up for
quality.' Bosweix : 'Would you teach this child that
I have furnished you with, anything .'' ' Johnson :
*No, I should not be apt to teach it.' Boswell:
'Would not you have a pleasure in teaching it?'
Johnson : ' No, sir, I should not have a pleasure in
teaching it. ' Bosweix : ' Have you not a pleasure in
teaching men.'' — There I have you. You have the
same pleasure in teaching men, that I should have
in teaching children. ' Johnson : ' Why, something
about that. '

BoswELii : ' Do you think, sir, that what is called
natural aflFection is bom with us .'' It seems to me to
be the effect of habit, or of gratitude for kindness.
No child has it for a parent, whom it has not seen.'
Johnson : ' Why, sir, I think there is an instinctive
natural affection in parents towards their children.'

Russia being mentioned as likely to become a great
empire by the rapid increase of population. Johnson :
'Why, sir, I see no prospect of their propagating more.
They can have no more children than they can get.
I know of no way to make them breed more than
they do. It is not from reason and prudence that
people marry, but from inclination. A man is poor;
he thinks, " I cannot be worse, and so I '11 e'en take
Peggy."' Bosweix: 'But have not nations been

;et. 6oJ LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 247

more populous at one period than another ? ' John-
son : ' Yes, sir ; but that has been owing to the people
being less thinned at one period than another, whether
by emigrations, war, or pestilence, not by their being
more or less prolific. Births at all times bear the
same proportion to the same number of people.'
BoswELL : ' But, to consider the state of our own
country ; — does not throwing a number of farms into
one hand hurt population ? ' Johnson : ' Why no,
sir ; the same quantity of food being produced, will be
consumed by the same number of mouths, though the
people may be disposed of in different ways. We see,
if corn be dear, and butchers' meat cheap, the farmers
all apply themselves to the raising of corn, till it
becomes plentiful and cheap, and then butchers' meat
becomes dear ; so that an equality is always preserved.
No, sir, let fanciful men do as they will, depend upon
it, it is difficult to disturb the system of life.' Boswell :
' But, sir, is it not a very bad thing for landlords to
oppress their tenants, by raising their rents?' John-
son : * Very bad. But, sir, it never can have any
general influence ; it may distress some individuals.
For, consider this : landlords cannot do without
tenants. Now tenants will not give more for land
than land is worth. If they can make more of their
money by keeping a shop, or any other way, they'll
do it, and so oblige landlords to let land coms back to
a reasonable rent, in order that they may get tenants.
Land, in England, is an article of commerce. A
tenant who pays his landlord his rent, thinks himself
no more obliged to him than you think yourself
obliged to a man in whose shop you buy a piece of
goods. He knows the landlord does not let him have

248 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1769

his land for less than he can get from others, in the
same manner as the shopkeeper sells his goods. No
shopkeeper sells a yard of ribbon for sixpence when
sevenpence is the current price.' Boswell : 'But, sir,
is it not better that tenants should be dependent on
landlords.'" Johnson : ' Why, sir, as there are many
more tenants than landlords, perhaps, strictly speak-
ing, we should wish noL But if you please you may
let your lands cheap, and so get the value, part in money,
and part in homage. I should agree with you in that.'
BoswEiiL : ' So, sir, you laugh at schemes of political
improvement.' Johnson : ' Why, sir, most schemes
of political improvement are very laughable things.'

He observed : ' Providence has wisely ordered that
the more numerous men are, the more dijSScult it is
for them to agree in anything, and so they are
governed. There is no doubt that if the poor should
reason, " We '11 be the poor no longer, we '11 make the
rich take their turn," they could easily do it, were it
not that they can't a^ee. So the common soldiers,
though so much more numerous than their officers^
are governed by them for the same reason.'

He said : ' Mankind have a strong attachment to
the habitations to which they have been accustomed.
You see the inhabitants of Norway do not with one
consent quit it, and go to some part of America, where
there is a mild climate, and where they may have the
same produce from land with the tenth part of the
labour. No, sir ; ^thair aiTection for their old dwell-
ings, and the terror of a general change, keep them
at home. Thus, we see many of the finest spots in
the world thinly inhabited, and many rugged spots
well inhabited.'

iET. 6o] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 249

The London Chronicle, which was the only news-
paper he constantly took in, being brought, the office
of reading it aloud was assigned to me. I was diverted
by his impatience. He made me pass over so many
parts of it, that my task was very easy. He would
not suflFer one of the petitions to the King about the
Middlesex election to be read.

I had hired a Bohemian as my servant while I re-
mained in London, and being much pleased witti him,
I asked Dr. Johnson whether his being a Roman
Catholic shoidd prevent my taking him with me to
Scotland .'' Johnson : ' Why no, sir. If he has no
objection, you can have none.' Boswell : *So, sir,
you are no great enemy to the Roman Catholic re-
ligion.' Johnson: *No more, sir, than to the Pres-
byterian religion.* Boswell ; 'You are joking.'
Johnson : ' No, sir, I really think so. Nay, sir, of
the two, I prefer the Popish.' Boswell: 'How bo,
sir?' Johnson: 'Why, sir, the Presbyterians have
no church, no apostolical ordination. ' Boswell :
'And do you think that absolutely essential, eir?'
Johnson : ' Why, sir, as it was an apostolic institution,
I think it is dangerous to be without it. And, sir, the
Presbyterians have no public worship : they have no
form of prayer in which they know they are to join.
They go to hear a man pray, and are to judge whether
they wUl join with him.' Boswell: 'But, sir, their
doctrine is the same with that of the Church of Eng-
land. Their confession of faith, and the thirty-nine
articles, contain the same points, even the doctrine of
predestination.' Johnson : ' Why yes, sir ; predesti-
nation was a part of the clamour of the times, so it is
mentioned in our articles, but with as little positive-

250 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1769

ness as could be.' Boswell : ' Is it necessary, sir, to
believe all the thirty-nine articles.''' Johnson: 'Why,
sir, that is a question which has been much agitated.
Some have thought it necessary that they should all
be believed ; others have considered them to be only
articles of peace, ^ that is to say, you are not to preach
against them.' Boswell : 'It appears to me, sir, that
predestination, or what is equivalent to it, cannot be
avoided, if we hold a universal prescience in the Deity.'
Johnson : 'Why, sir, does not God every day see the
things going on without preventing them .''' Boswell :
' True, sir, but if a thing be certainly foreseen, it must
be fixed, and cannot happen otherwise; and if we
apply this consideration to the human mind, there is
no free will, nor do I see how prayer can be of any
avail.' He mentioned Dr. Clarke, and Bishop Bram-
hall on Liberty and Necessity, and bid me read
South's Sermons on Prayer ; but avoided the question
which has excruciated philosophers and divines beyond
any other. I did not press it further, when I perceived
that he was displeased, and shrunk from any abridg-
ment of an attribute usually ascribed to the divinity,
however irreconcilable ia its full extent with the
grand system of moral government His supposed

1 [Dr. Simon Patrick (afterwards Bishop of Ely) thus expresses him-
self on this subject in a letter to the learned Dr. John Mapletoft,
dated Feb. 8, 1682-3 :

_' I always took the Articles to be only articles of communion ; and so
Bishop Bramhall expressly maintains against the Bishop of Chalcedon ;
and I remember well that Bishop Sanderson, when the King was
first restored, received the subscription of an acquaintance of mine,
which he declared was not to them as articles oi faith, but peace. I
think you need make no scruple of the matter, because all that I Icnow
so understand the meaning of subscription, and upon other terms
would not subscribe.' The above was printed some years ago in tho
European Magazine, from the original, now in the hands of Mr.
Mapletoft, surgeon at Chertsey, grandson to Dr. John Mapletoft. — M.]

^T. 6o] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 251

orthodoxy here cramped the vigorous powers of his
understanding. He was confined by a chain which
early imagination and long habit made him think
massy and strong, but which, had he ventured to try,
he could at once have snapped asunder.

I proceeded : 'What do you think, sir, of Purgatory,
as believed by the Roman Caiholics ? ' Johnson :
' Why, sir, it is a very harmless doctrine. They are
of opinion that the generality of mankind are neither
so obstinately wicked as to deserve everlasting punish-
ment, nor so good as to merit being admitted into the
society of blessed spirits ; and therefore that God is
graciously pleased to allow of a middle state, where
they may be purified by certain degrees of suiFering.
You see, sir, there is nothing unreasonable in this.'
Boswell: 'But then, sir, their masses for the dead.'''
Johnson : ' Why, sir, if it be once established that
there are souls in purgatory, it is as proper to pray for
them, as for our brethren of mankind who are yet
in this life.' Boswell : 'The idolatry of the Mass .'''
Johnson : ' Sir, there is no idolatry in the Mass.
They believe God to be there, and they adore him.'
Boswell : * The worship of Saints .'' ' Johnson : ' Sir,
they do not worship saints ; they invoke them ; they
only ask their prayers. I am talking all this time of
the doctrines of the Church of Rome. I grant you that
in practice. Purgatory is made a lucrative imposition,
and that the people do become idolatrous as they
recommend themselves to the tutelary protection of
particular saints. I think their giving the sa«5rament
only in one kind is criminal, because it is contrary to
the express institution of Christ, and I wonder how
the Council of Trent admitted it' Boswell: 'Con-

362 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1769

fession ? ' Johnson : * Why, I don't know but that
is a good thing. The Scripture says, ''Confess your
faults one to another," and the priests confess as well
as the laity. Then it must be considered that theix
absolution is only upon repentance, and often upon
penance also. You think your sins may be forgi^^n
without penance, upon repentance alone.'

I thus ventured to mention all the common objec-
tions against the Roman Catholic Church, that I
might hear so great a man upon them. What he said
is here accurately recorded. But it is not impDobable
that if one had taken the other side, he might have
reasoned differently.

I must however mention that he Bad a respject for
the old religion, as the mUd Melanchthon called that of
the Roman Catholic Church, even whUe he was exert-
ing himself for its reformation in some particulars.
Sir William Scott informs me, that he heard Johnson
say, ' A man who is converted from Protestantism to
Popery, may be sincere : he parts with nothing ; he is
only superadding to what he already had. But a cott-
vert from Popery to Protestantism gives up so much
of what he has held as sacred as anythiijg that he
retains ; there is so much laceration of mind m sueh a
conversion, that it can hardly be sincere and lasting.'
The truth of this reflection may be confirmed by many
and eminent instances, some of which svUl occur to
most of my readers.

When we were alone, I introduced the subject of
death, and endeavoured to maintain that the fear of it
might be got over. I told him that David Hume said
to me, he was no more uneasy to think he should not
he after his life, than that he had not been before he

-fiT. 6o] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 253

began to exist. Johnson : ' Sir, if he really thinks
so, his perceptions are disturbed ; he is mad ; if he
does not thiiik so, he lies. He may tell you he holds
his finger in the flame of a candle, without feeling pain;
would you believe him ? When he does, he at least
gives up all he has.' Boswell : ' Foote, sir, told me
that when he was very ill he was not afraid to die.'
Johnson : 'It is not true, sir. Hold a pistol to Foote's
breast, or to Hume's breast, and threaten to kill them,
and you'll see how they behave.' Boswell: 'But may
we not fortify our minds for the approach of death } '
Here I am sensible I was in the wrong, to brii^ before
his view what he ever looked upon with horror ; for
although when in a celestial frame of mind in his
Vanity of Human Wishes, he has supposed death to be
'kind Nature's signal for retreat,' from his state of
being to ' a happier seat,' his thoughts upon this awful
change were in general full of dismal apprehensions.
His mind resembled the vast amphitheatre, the Colos-
seum at Rome. In the centre stood his judgment,
which, like a mighty Radiator, combated those ap-
prehensions that, like the wild beasts of the arena,
were aU around in cells, ready to be let out upon him.
After a conflict, he drives them back into their dens ;
but not killing them, they were stili assailing him. To
my question whether we might not fortify our minds
for the approach of death, he answered, in a passion,
' No, sir, let it alone. It matters not how a man dies,
but bow he lives. The act of dying is not of import-
ance, it lasts so short a time.' He added (with an
earnest look), * A man knows it must be so, and sub-
mits. It will do him no good to whine.'
I attempted to continue the conversation. He was

254 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1769

so provokedj that he said, 'Give us no more of this,'
and was thrown into such a state of agitation, that he
expressed himself in a way that alarmed and distressed
me ; showed an impatience that I should leave him,
and when I was going away, called to me sternly,
' Don't let us meet to-morrow,'

I went home exceedingly uneasy. All the harsh
observations which I had ever heard made upon his
character crowded into my mind ; and I seemed to
myself like the man who had put his head into the
lion's mouth a great many times with perfect safety,
but at last had it bit off.

Next morning I sent him a note, stating that I
might have been in the wrong, but it was not inten-
tionally ; he was therefore, I could not help thinking,
too severe upon me. That notwithstanding our agree-
ment not to meet that day I would call on him in my
way to the city, and stay five minutes by my watch.
* You are (said I) in my mind, since last night, sur-
rounded with cloud and storm. Let me have a
glimpse of sunshine, and go about my affairs in
serenity and cheerfulness.'

Upon entering his study I was glad that he was not
alone, which would have made our meeting more
awkward. There were with him Mr. Steevens and
Mr. Tyers, both of whom I now saw for the first time.
My note had, on his own reflection, softened him,
for he received me very complacently ; so that I
unexpectedly found myself at ease ; and joined in the
conversation.

He said the critics had done too much honour to
Sir Richard Blackmore, by writing so much against
him. That in his Creation he had been helped by

^T. 6o] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 255

various %vits, a line by Phillips and a line by Tickell ;
so that by their aid and that of othess^ the poem had
been made out.

I defended Blackmore's supposed lines, which have
been ridiculed as absolute nonsense :

'A painted vest Prince Voltiger had on,
Which from a naked Pict his grandsire won.' ^

I maintained it to be a poetical conceit. A Pict being
painted, if he is slain in battle, and a vest is made of
his skin, it is a painted vest won from him, though he
was naked.

Johnson spoke unfavourably of a certain pretty
voluminous author, saying, ' He used to write anony-
mous books, and then other books commending those
books, in which there was something of rascality.'

I whispered him, ' Well, sir, you are now in good
humour.* Johnson: 'Yes, sir.' I was going to
leave him, and had got as far as the staircase. He

1 An acute correspondent of the European Magazine, April 1^92,
has completely exposed a mistake which has been unaccountably
frequent in ascribing these lines to Blackmore, notwithstanding that
Sir Richard Steele, in that very popular work The Spectator, mentions
them as written by the author of The British Princes, the Hon.
Edward Howard. The correspondent above mentioned shows this
mistake to be so inveterate, that not only / defended the lines as
Blackmore's in the presence of Or. Johnson without any contradiction
or doubt of their authenticity, but that the Reverend Mr. Whitaker has
asserted in print that he understands they were suppressed in the late
edition or editions of Blackmore. 'After all (says this intelligent
writer), it is not unworthy of particular observation that these line.s so
often quoted do not exist either in Blackmore or Howard.' In The
British Pritices, 8vo, 1669, now betore me, p. 96, they stand thus :

' A vest as admired Voltiger had on.
Which, from this Island's foes, his grandsire won,
Whose artful colour pass'd the Tynan dye,
Obliged to triumph in this legacy.'
It is probable, I think, that some wag, in order to make Howard
still more ridiculous than be really was, has formed the couplet as it
now circulates.

256 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1769

stopped me, and smiling, said, 'Get you gone in,' a
curious mode of inviting me to stay, which I accord-
ingly did for some time longer.

This little incidental quarrel and reconciliation,
which, perhaps, I may he thought to have detailed too
minutely, must be esteemed as one of many proofs
which his friends had, that though he might he
charged with bad humour at times, he was always a
good-natured man ; and I have heard Sir Joshua
Reynolds, a nice and delicate observer of manners,
particularly remark, that when upon any occasion
Johnson had been rough to any person in company he
took the first opportunity of reconciliation, by drink-
ing to him, or addressing his discourse to him ; but
if he found his dignified indirect overtures sullenly
neglected, he was quite indifferent, and considered
himself as having done all that he ought to do, and
the other as now in the wrong.

Being to set out for Scotland on the 10th of Novem-
ber, I wrote to him at Streatham, begging that he
would meet me in town on the 9th ; but if this should
be very inconvenient to him, I would go thither. His
answer was as follows :

TO JAMES BOSWELZi, ESQ.

'Dear Sir, — Upon balancing the inconveniences of both
parties, I find it will less incommode you to spend your night
here, than me to come to town. I wish to see you, and am
ordered by the lady of this house to invite you hither.
Whether you can come or not I shall not have any occasion
of writing to yon again before your marriage, and therefore
tell you now, that with great sincerity I wish you happiness.
I am, dear sir, your most aSectionate humble servant,

'Sam. Johnson.

'iVor. 9, 1769.

iET.6i] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 257

I was detained in town till it was too late on the
ninth, so went to him early in the morning of the tenth
of Novemher. ' Now (said he), that you are going to
marry, do not expect more from life than life will
afford. You may often find yourself out of humour,
and you may often think your wife not studious
enough to please you ; and yet you may have reason
to consider yourself as upon the whole very happily
married.'

Talking of marriage in general, he observed : ' Our
marriage service is too refined. It is calculated only
for the best kind of marriages ; whereas, we should
have a form for matches of convenience, of which
there are many.' He agreed with me that there was
no absolute necessity for having the marriage cere-
mony performed by a regular clergyman, for this was
not commanded in Scripture.

I was volatile enough to repeat to him a little epi-
grammatic song of mine on matrimony, which Mr.
Garrick had a few days before procured to be set to
music by the very ingenious Mr. Dibdin :

A MATRIMONIAL THOUGHT

' In the blithe days of honey-moon,

With Kate's allurements smitten,
I loved her late, I loved her soon,
And call'd her dearest kitten.

But now my kitten 's grown a cat,

And cross like other wives,
O ! by my soul, my honest Mat,

I fear she has nine lives.'

but

I

My illustrious friend said, ' It is very well, sir ; bu
you should not swear.' Upon which I altered 'O
by my soul,' to ' Alas, alas ! '

VOL. n. B

258 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1770

He was so good as to accompany me to London,
and see me into the post-chaise which was to carry me
on my road to Scotland. And sure I am, that how-
ever inconsiderable many of the particulars recorded
at this time may appear to some, they will be esteemed
by the best part of my readers as genuine traits of his
character, contributing together to give a full, fair,
and distinct view of it.

In 1770 he published a political pamphlet, entitled
The False Alarm, intended to justify the conduct of
ministry and their majority in the House of Commons,
for having virtually assumed it as an axiom, that the
expulsion of a Member of Parliament was equivalent
to exclusion, and thus having declared Colonel Lut-
terel to be duly elected for the county of Middlesex,
notwithstanding Mr. Wilkes had a great majority of
votes. This being justly considered as a gross viola-
tion of the right of election, an alarm for the con-
stitution extended itself all over the kingdom. To
prove this alarm to be false was the purpose of John-
son's pamphlet ; but even his vast powers were inade-
quate to cope with constitutional truth and reason,
and his argument failed of effect ; and the House of
Commons have since expunged the offensive resolution
from their Journals. That the House of Commons
might have expelled Mr. Wilkes repeatedly, and as
often as he should be rechosen, was not denied ; but
incapacitation cannot be but an act of the whole legis-
lature. It was wonderful to see how a prejudice in
favour of government in general, and an aversion to
popular clamour, could blind and contract such an
understanding as Johnson's in this particular case ;

^T. 6i] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 259

yet the wit, the sarcasm, the eloquent vivacity which
this pamphlet displayed, made it be read with great
avidity at the time, and it will ever be read with plea-
sure, for the sake of its composition. That it en-
deavoured to infuse a narcotic indifference as to public
concerns into the minds of the people, and that it
broke out sometimes into an extreme coarseness of
contemptuous abuse, is but too evident.

It must not, however, be omitted that when the
storm of his violence subsides he takes a fair oppor-
tunity to pay a grateful compliment to the King, who
had rewarded his merit :

'These low-bom rulers have endeavoured, surely without
effect, to aUenate the affections of the people from the only
king who for almost a century has much appeared to desire,
or much endeavoured to deserve them.'

And

' Every honest man must lament that the faction has been
regarded with frigid neutrality by the Tories, who being long
accustomed to si^alise their principles by opposition to the
court, do not yet consider that they have at last a king who
knows not the name of party, and who wishes to be the
common father of all his people.'

To this pamphlet, which was at once discovered to
be Johnson's, several answers came out, in which care
was taken to remind the public of his former attacks
upon government, and of his now being a pensioner,
without allowing for the honourable terms upon which
Johnson's pension was granted and accepted, or the
change of system which the British court had under-
gone upon the accession of his present Majesty. He
was, however, soothed in the highest strain of pan-

260 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1770

egyric in a poem, called ' The Remonstrance/ by the
Reverend Mr. Stockdale, to whom he was, upon many
occasions, a kind protector.

The following admirable minute made by him
describes so well his own state, and that of numbers
to whom self-examination is habitual, that I cannot
omit it :

'June 1, 1770. — Every man naturally persuades himself
that he can keep his resolutions, nor is he convinced of his
imbecility but by length of time and frequency of experiment.
This opinion of our own constancy is so prevalent that we
always despise him who suffers his general and settled piu--
pose to be overpowered by an occasional desire. They, there-
fore, whom frequent failures have made desperate, cease to
form resolutions ; and they who are become cunning do not
tell them. Those who do not make them are very few, but of
their effect little is perceived ; for scarcely any man persists
in a course of life planned by choice, but as he is restrained
from deviation by some external power. He who may live
as he will, seldom lives long in the observation of his own
rules.' ^

Of this year I have obtained the following letters :

TO THE BBV. DB. FARMER, CAMBRIDGE

'Sm, — As no man ought to keep wholly to himself any
possession that may be useful to the public, I hope you will
not think me vmreasonably intrusive, if I have recourse to you
for such information as you are more able to give me than any
other man.

' In sopport of an opinion which you have already placed
above the need of any more support, Mr. Steevens, a very
ingenious gentleman, lately of King's College, has collected
an account of all the translations which Shakespeare might
have seen and used. He wishes his catalogue to be perfect,
and therefore entreats that you will favour him by the inser-

1 Prayers and Meditations, p. 95.

^T. 6i] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 261

tion of such additions as the accuracy of your inquiries has
enabled you to make. To this request I take the liberty of
adding my own solicitation.

' We have no immediate use for this catalogue, and there-
fore do not desire that it should interrupt or hinder your more
important employments. But it will be kind to let us know
that you receive it. — I am, sir, etc. Bam. Johnson.

* Johnson's Court, Fleet Street,
'March 21, 1770.'

TO THE REV. MR. THOMAS WARTON

'Dear Sib, — The readiness with which you were pleased to
promise me some notes on Shakespeare was a new instance of
your friendship. I shall not hurry you ; but am desired by
Mr. Steevens, who helps me in this edition, to let you know
that we shall print the tragedies first, and shaU therefore want
first the notes which belong to them. We think not to incom-
mode the readers with a supplement ; and therefore, what we
cannot put into its proper place, will do us no good. We shall
not begin to print before the end of six weeks, perhaps not so
soon. — I am, etc. Sam. Johnson.

'London, June 23, 1770.'

TO THE BEV. DR. JOSEPH WARTON
' Dear Sir, — I am revising my edition of Shakespeare, and
remember that I formerly misrepresented your opinion of
Lear. Be pleased to write the paragraph as you would have
it, and send it. If you have any remarks of your own upon
that or any other play, I shall gladly receive them.

' Make my compliments to Mrs. Warton. I sometimes
think of wandering for a few days to Winchester, but am apt
to delay. — I am, sir, your most humble servant,

'Sak. Johnson.
'Sept. 27, 1770.'

TO MB. FRANCIS BARBER, AT MRS. CLAPP S, BISHOP-
STOBTFORD, HEBTFORDSHIBE

'Dear Francis, — I am at last sat down to write to you, and
should very much blame myself for having neglected you so

262 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1770

long, if I did not impute that and many other failings to want
of health. I hope not to be so long sUent again. I am very
well satisfied with your progress, if you can really perform the
exercises which you are set ; and I hope Mr. EUis does not
suffer you to impose on him, or on yourself.

' Make my compliments to Mr. Ellis, and to Mrs. Clapp,
and Mr. Smith.

' Let me know what English books you read for your enter-
tainment. You can never be wise unless you love reading.

* Do not imagine that I shall forget or forsake you : for if,
when I examine you, I find that you have not lost your time,
you shall want no encouragement from yours affectionately,

' Sam. Johnson.

' LoncUm, Sept 25, 1770.'

TO MB. FRANCIS BARBER

' Dbah Francis, — I hope you mind your business. I design
you shall stay with Mrs. Clapp these holidays. If you are
invited out you may go, if Mr. Ellis gives leave. I have
ordered you some clothes, which you will receive, I believe,
next week. My compliments to Mrs. Clapp and to Mr. Ellis,
and Mr. Smith, etc. — I am, your affectionate

' Sam. Johnson.

'December 7, 1770.'

During this year there was a total cessation of all
correspondence between Dr. Johnson and me^ without
any coldness on either side, but merely from procras-
tination, continued from day to day ; and as I was
not in London, I had no opportunity of enjoying his
company and recording his conversation. To supply
this blank, I shall present my readers with some Col-
lectanea, obligingly furnished to me by the Rev. Dr.
Maxwell, of Falkland, in Ireland, some time assistant
preacher at the Temple, and for many years the
social friend of Johnson, who spoke of him with a
very kind regard :

yET. 6i] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 263

' My acquaintance with that great and venerable character
commenced in the year 1754. I was introduced to him by Mr.
Grierson,' his Majesty's printer at Dublin, a gentleman of
uncommon learning, and great wit and vivacity. Mr. Grier-
son died in Germany, at the age of twenty-seven. Dr. John-
son highly respected his abilities, and often observed, that he
possessed more extensive knowledge than any man of his
years he had ever known. His industry was equal to his
talents ; and he particularly excelled in every species of
philological learning, and was, perhaps, the best critic of the
age he lived in.

' I must always remember with gratitude my obligation to
Mr. Grierson, for the honour and happiness of Dr. Johnson's
acquaintance and friendship, which continued uninterrupted
and undiminished to his death : a connection, that was at once
the pride and happiness of my life.

' What pity it is, that so much wit and good sense as he
continually exhibited in conversation, should perish unre-
corded ! Few persons quitted his company without perceiv-
ing themselves wiser and better than they were before. On
serious subjects he flashed the most interesting conviction
upon his auditors ; and upon lighter topics, you might have
supposed — Albcmo Musas de monte locutas.

' Though I can hope to add but little to the celebrity of so
exalted a character, by any communications I can furnish,
yet out of pure respect to his memory, I will venture to trans-
mit to you some anecdotes concerning him, which fell under
my own observation. The very Tninutice of such a character
must be interesting, and may be compared to the filings of
diamonds.

* In politics he was deemed a Tory, but certainly was not so
in the obnoxious or party sense of the term : for while he
asserted the legal and salutary prerogatives of the crown, he
no less respected the constitutional liberties of the people.
Whiggism, at the time of the Revolution, he said, was accom-

1 Son of the learned Mrs. Grierson, who was patronised by the late
Lord Granville, and was the editor of several of the classics.

[Her edition of Tacitus^ with the notes of Rychius, in three volumes,
8vo, 1730, was dedicated in very elegant Latin to John, Lord Carteret
(afterwards Earl Granville), by whom she was patronised during his
residence in Ireland as Lord Lieutenant between 1734 and 1730.— M.}

264 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1770

panied with certain principles ; but latterly, as a mere party
distinction under Walpole and the Pelhams, was no better
than the politics of stock-jobbers, and the religion of infidels.

' He detested the idea of governing by parliamentary cor-
ruption, and asserted most strenuously, that a prince steadily
and conspicuously pursuing the interests of his people, could
not fail of parliamentary concurrence. A prince of ability,
he contended, might and should be the directing soul and
spirit of his own administration ; in short, his own minister,
and not the mere head of a party : and then, and not till then,
would the royal dignity be sincerely respected.

* Johnson seemed to think, that a certain degree of crown
influence over the Houses of Parliament (not meaning a corrupt
and shameful dependence) was very salutary, nay, even
necessary, in our mixed government. " For (said he), if the
members were under no crown influence, and disqualified from
receiving any gratification from court, and resembled, as they
possibly might, Pym and Haslerig, and other stubborn and
sturdy members of the Long Parliament, the wheels of
government would be totally obstructed. Such men would
oppose, merely to show their power, from envy, jealousy, and
perversity of disposition : and not gaining themselves, would
hate and oppose aU who did : not loving the person of the
prince, and conceiving they owed him little gratitude, from
the mere spirit of insolence and contradiction, they would
oppose and thwart him upon aU occasions."

' The inseparable imperfection annexed to all human govern-
ments, consisted, he said, in not being able to create a sufficient
fimd of virtue and principle to carry the laws into due and
effectual execution. Wisdom might plan, but virtue alone
could execute. And where could sufficient virtue be found ?
A variety of delegated, and often discretionary, powers, must
be intrusted somewhere ; which, if not governed by integrity
and conscience, would necessarily be abused, tUl at last the
constable would sell his for a shilling.

' This excellent person was sometimes charged with abetting
slavish and arbitrary principles of government. Nothing in
my opinion could be a grosser calumny and misrepresentation ;
for how can it be rationally supposed, that he should adopt
such pernicious and absurd opinions, who supported his philo-

;et. 6i] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 265

Bophical character with so much dignity, was extremely jealous
of his personal liberty and independence, and could not brook
the smallest appearance of neglect or insult, even from the
highest personages ?

' But let us view him in some instances of more familiar
life.

' His general mode of life during my acquaintance, seemed
to be pretty uniform. About twelve o'clock I commonly
visited him, and frequently found him in bed, or declaiming
over his tea, which he drank very plentifully. He generally
had a levee of morning visitors, chiefly men of letters ;
Hawkesworth, Goldsmith, Murphy, Langton, Steevens, Beau-
clerk, etc. etc., and sometimes learned ladies ; particularly I
remember a French lady of wit and fashion doing him the
honour of a visit. He seemed to me to be considered as a kind
of public oracle, whom everybody thought they had a right
to visit and consult ; and doubtless they were well rewarded.
I never could discover how he found time for his compositions.
He declaimed aU the morning, then went to dinner at a
tavern, where he commonly stayed late, and then drank his
tea at some friend's house, over which he loitered a great while,
but seldom took supper. I fancy he must have read and wrote
chiefly in the night, for I can scarcely recollect that he ever
refused going with me to a tavern, and he often went to
Banelagh, which he deemed a place of innocent recreation.

' He frequently gave all the silver in his pocket to the poor,
who watched him between his house and the tavern where he
dined. He walked the streets at all hours, and said he was
never robbed, for the rogues knew he had little money, nor
had the appearance of having much.

' Though the most accessible and communicative man alive,
yet when he suspected he was invited to be exhibited, he con-
stantly spumed the invitation.

' Two young women from Staffordshire visited him when I
was present, to consult him on the subject of Methodism, to
which they were inclined. "Come (said he), you pretty fools,
dine with Maxwell and me at the Mitre, and we will talk over
that subject " ; which they did, and after dinner he took
one of them upon his knee, and fondled her for half an hour
together.

266 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1770

' Upon a visit to me at a country lodging near Twickenham,
he asked what sort of society I had there. I told him : But
indifferent; as they chiefly consisted of opulent traders,
retired from business. He said he never much liked that class
of people; "for, sir (said he), they have lost the civility of
tradesmen, without acquiring the manners of gentlemen."

'Johnson was much attached to London : he observed that
a man stored his mind better there than anywhere else ; and
that in remote situations a man's body might be feasted, but
his mind was starved, and his faculties apt to degenerate,
from want of exercise and competition. No place (he said)
cured a man's vanity or arrogance so well as London ; for as
no man was either great or good per se, but as compared with
others not so good or great, he was stire to find in the metro-
polis many his equals, and some his superiors. He observed,
that a man in London was in less danger of falling in love
indiscreetly, than anywhere else ; for there the difficulty of
deciding between the conflicting pretensions of a vast variety
of objects, kept him safe. He told me that he had frequently
been offered country preferment, if he would consent to take
orders ; but he could not leave the improved society of the
capital, or consent to exchange the exhilarating joys and
splendid decorations of public life, for the obscurity, insipidity,
and uniformity of remote situations.

' Speaking of Mr. Harte, Canon of Windsor, and writer of
The History of Gustavus Adolphus, he much commended him
as a scholar, and a man of the most companionable talents he
had ever known. He said, the defects in his history pro-
ceeded not from imbecility, but from foppery.

' He loved, he said, the old blackletter books ; they were
rich in matter, though their style was inelegant ; wonderfully
so, considering how conversant the writers were with the best
models of antiquity.

' Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy, he said, was the only
book that ever took him out of bed two hours sooner than he
wished to rise.^

' He frequently exhorted me to set about writing a History

1 [This is perhaps the most frequently reprinted dictum of the
Doctor. Every second-hand bookseller who has a copy of the Ana-
tomy to sell prints it in his catalogue. — A. B.]

.ET. 6i] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 267

of Ireland, and archly remarked, there had been some good
Irish writers, and that one Irishman might at least aspirfe to
be equal to another. He had great compassion for the
miseries and distresses of the Irish nation, particularly the
Papists; and severely reprobated the barbarous debilitating
policy of the British government, which, he said, was the
most detestable mode of persecution. To a gentleman, who
hinted such policy might be necessary to support the authority
of the English government, he replied by saying, "Let the
authority of the English government perish rather than be
maintained by Iniquity. Better would it be to restrain the
turbulence of the natives by the authority of the sword, and
to make them amenable to law and justice by an effectual and
vigorous police, than to grind them to powder by all manner
of disabilities and incapacities. Better (said he) to hang or
drown people at once, than by an imrelenting persecution to
beggar and starve them." The moderation and humanity of
the present times have, in some measure, justified the wisdom
of his observations.

'Dr. Johnson was often accused of prejudices, nay, anti-
pathy, with regard to the natives of Scotland. Surely, so
illiberal a prejudice never entered his mind : and it is well
known, many natives of that respectable country possessed a
large share in his esteem : nor were any of them ever excluded
from his good oflBces, as far as opportunity permitted. True
it is, he considered the Scotch, nationally, as a crafty, design-
ing people, eagerly attentive to their own interest, and too
apt to overlook the claims and pretensions of other people.
"While they confine their benevolence, in a manner, ex-
clusively to those of their own country, they expect to share
in the good oflSces of other people. Now (saad Johnson) this
principle is either right or wrong ; if right, we should do well
to imitate such conduct; if wrong, we cannot too much
detest it."

' Being solicited to compose a funeral sermon for the
daughter of a tradesman, he naturally inquired into the char-
acter of the deceased ; and being told she was remarkable for
her humility and condescension to inferiors, he observed that
those were very laudable qualities, but it might not be so easy
to discover who the lady's inferiors were.

268 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1770

'Of a certain player he remarked that his conversation
usually threatened and announced more than it performed ;
that he fed you with a continual renovation of hope, to end in
a constant succession of disappointment.

'When exasperated by contradiction, he was apt to treat
his opponents with too much acrimony: as, "Sir, you don't
see your way through that question": — "Sir, you talk the
language of ignorance." On my observing to him that a
certain gentleman had remained silent the whole evening, in
the midst of a very brUliant and learned society, "Sir," said
he, " the conversation overflowed, and drowned him."

'His philosophy, though austere and solemn, was by no
means morose and cynical, and never blunted the laudable
sensibilities of his character, or exempted him from the influ-
ence of the tender passions. Want of tenderness, he always
alleged, was want of parts, and was no less a proof of stupidity
than depravity.

'Speaking of Mr. Hanway, who published An Eight Days'
Journey from London to Portsmouth, "Jonas (said he) ac-
quired some reputation by travelling abroad, but lost it all
by travelling at home."

' Of the passion of love he remarked that its violence and ill
effects were much exaggerated ; for who knows any real suffer-
ings on that head, more than from the exorbitancy of any
other passion ?

' He much commended Law's Serious Call, which, he said,
was the finest piece of hortatory theology in any language.
" Law (said he) fell latterly into the reveries of Jacob Behmen,
whom Law alleged to have been somewhat in the same state
with St. Paul, and to have seen unutterable things. Were it
even so (said Johnson), Jacob would have resembled St. Paul
BtiU more, by not attempting to utter them."

' He observed that the established clergy in general did not
preach plain enough ; and that polished periods and glittering
sentences flew over the heads of the common people, without
any impression upon their hearts. Something might be neces-
sary, he observed, to excite the affections of the common
people, who were sunk in languor and lethargy, and therefore
he supposed that the new concomitants of Methodism might
probably produce so desirable an effect. The mind, like the

iET. 6i] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 269

body, he observed, delighted in change and novelty, and even
in religion itself courted new appearances and modifications.
"Whatever might be thought of some Methodist teachers, he
said, he could scarcely doubt the sincerity of that man, who
travelled nine hundred miles in the month, and preached
twelve times a week; for no adequate reward, merely tem-
poral, could be given for such indefatigable labour.

'Of Dr. Priestley's theological works, he remarked that
they tended to unsettle everything, and yet settled
nothing.

'He was much affected by the death of his mother, and
wrote to me to come and assist him to compose his mind,
which indeed I found extremely agitated. He lamented that
all serious and religious conversation was banished from the
society of men, and yet great advantages might be derived
from it. All acknowledged, he said, what hardly anybody
practised, the obligations we were under of making the con-
cerns of eternity the governing principles of our lives. Every
man, he observed, at last wishes for retreat : he sees his
expectations frustrated in the world, and begins to wean him-
self from it, and to prepare for everlasting separation.

' He observed that the influence of London now extended
everywhere, and that from all manner of communication
being opened, there shortly would be no remains of the ancient
simplicity, or places of cheap retreat to be found.

'He was no admirer of blank verse, and said it always
failed, imless sustained by the dignity of the subject. In
blank verse, he said, the language suffered more distortion,
to keep it out of prose, than any inconvenience or hmitation
to be apprehended from the shackles and circumspection of
rhyme.

' He reproved me once for saying grace without mention of
the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, and hoped in future I
would be more mindful of the apostolical injunction.

' He refused to go out of a room before me at Mr. Langton's
house, saying he hoped he knew his rank better than to pre-
sume to take place of a Doctor in Divinity. I mention such
little anecdotes merely to show the pccidiar turn and habit of
his mind.

' He oaed frequently to observe that there was more to be

270 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1770

endured than enjoyed in the general condition of human life ;
and frequently quoted those lines of Dry den :

" Strange cozenage ! none would live past years again,
Yet all hope pleasure from what still remain."

For his part, he said, he never passed that week in his life
which he would wish to repeat, were an angel to make the
proposal to him.

' He was of opinion that the English nation cultivated both
their soil and their reason better than any other people ; but
admitted that the French, though not the highest, perhaps, in
any department of literature, yet in every department were
very high. Intellectual pre-eminence, he observed, was the
highest superiority ; and that every nation derived their
highest reputation from the splendour and dignity of their
writers. Voltau'e, he said, was a good narrator, and that his
principal merit consisted in a happy selection and arrange-
ment of circumstances.

'Speaking of the French novels, compared with Richard-
son's, he said, they might be pretty baubles, but a wren was
not an eagle.

' In a Latin conversation with the Pere Boscovitch, at the
house of Mrs. Cholmondeley, I heard him maintain the superi-
ority of Sir Isaac Newton over all foreign philosophers, ^ with
a dignity and eloquence that surprised that learned foreigner.
It being observed to him that a rage for everything English
prevailed much in France after Lord Chatham's glorious war,
he said he did not wonder at it, for that we had drubbed those
fellows into a proper reverence for us, and that their national
petulance required periodical chastisement.

'Lord Lyttelton's Dialogues he deemed a nugatory perform-
ance. "That man (said he) sat down to write a book, to tell
the world what the world had all his life been telling him."

'Somebody observing that the Scotch Highlanders in the
year 1745 had made surprising efforts, considering their

1 [In a Discourse by Sir William Jones, addressed to the Asiatic
Society, Feb. 24, 1785, is the following passage: 'One of the most
sagacious men in this age who continues, 1 hope, to improve and adorn
it, Samuel Johnson, remarked in my hearing, that if Newton had
flourished in ancient Greece he would have been worshipped as a
Divinity.' — M.]

iET. 6i] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 271

numerous wants and disadvantages : "Yes, sir (said he), their
wants were numerous; but you have not mentioned the
greatest of them all, — the want of law."

' Speaking of the inward light, to which some Methodists
pretended, he said it was a principle utterly incompatible with
social or civil security. " If a man (said he) pretends to a prin-
ciple of action of which I can know nothing, nay, not so much
as that he has it, but only that he pretends to it, how can I
tell what that person may be prompted to do? When a
person professes to be governed by a written ascertained law,
I can then know where to find him."

'The poem of Fingal, he said, was a mere imconnected
rhapsody, a tiresome repetition of the same images. "In
vain shall we look for the Zwctdus ordo, where there is neither
end nor object, design or moral, nee certa recv/rrit imago."

• Being asked by a yoimg nobleman what was become of the
gallantry and military spirit of the old English nobility, he
replied, ' ' Why, my Lord, I '11 teU you what has become of
it : it is gone into the city to look for a fortune."

• Speaking of a dull, tiresome fellow, whom he chanced to
meet, he said, "That fellow seems to me to possess but one
idea, and that is a wrong one."

• Much inquiry having been made concerning a gentleman
who had quitted a company where Johnson was, and no in-
formation being obtained ; at last Johnson observed that "he
did not care to speak ill of any man behind his back, but he
believed the gentleman was an attorney."

*He spoke with much contempt of the notice taken of
Woodhouse, the political shoemaker. He said, it was all
vanity and childishness : and that such objects were, to those
who patronised them, mere mirrors of their own superiority.
" They had better (said he) fumRh the man with good imple-
ments for his trade, than raise subscriptions for his poems.
He may make an excellent shoemaker, but can never make a
good poet. A schoolboy's exercise may be a pretty thing for
a schoolboy ; but it is no treat for a man."

' Speaking of Boetius, who was the favourite writer of the
middle ages, he said it was very surprising, that upon such a
subject, and in such a situation, he should be magis philo-
sophus quam Christianu$,

272 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1770

' Speaking of Arthur Murphy, whom he very much loved,
" I don't know (said he), that Arthur can be classed with the
very first dramatic writers; yet at present I doubt much
whether we have anything superior to Arthur."

' Speaking of the national debt, he said, it was an idle
dream to suppose that the country could sink under it. Let
the public creditors be ever so clamorous, the interest of
millions must ever prevail over that of thousands.

'Of Dr. Kennicott's CoUations, he observed, that though
the text should not be much mended thereby, yet it was no
small advantage to know that we had as good a text as the
most consummate industry and diligence could procure.

'Johnson observed that so many objections might be made
to everything, that nothing could overcome them but the
necessity of doing something. No man would be of any pro-
fession, as simply opposed to not being of it : but every one
must do something.

' He remarked that a London parish was a very comfortless
thing ; for the clergyman seldom knew the face of one out of
ten parishioners.

' Of the late Mr. Mallet he spoke with no great respect :
said, he was ready for any dirty job; that he had wrote
against Byng at the instigation of the ministry, and was
equally ready to write for him, provided he found his account
in it.

'A gentleman who had been very unhappy in marriage,
married immediately after his wife died ; Johnson said it was
the triumph of hope over experience.

'He observed that a man of sense and education should
meet a suitable companion in a wife. It was a miserable
thing when the conversation could only be such as, whether
the mutton should be boiled or roasted, and probably a dis-
pute about that.

' He did not approve of late marriages, observing that more
was lost in point of time, than compensated for by any pos-
sible advantages. Even ill-assorted marriages were preferable
to cheerless celibacy.

' Of old Sheridan he remarked, that he neither wanted parts
nor literature; but that his vanity and Quixotism obscured
his merits.

;et. 6i] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 273

' He said foppery was never cured ; it was the bad stamina
of the mind, which, like those of the body, were never rectified;
once a coxcomb, and always a coxcomb.

'Being told that Gilbert Cowper called him the Caliban
of literature: "Well (said he), I must dub him the Pim-
chinello."

'Speaking of the old Earl of Cork and Orrery, he said,
"That man spent his life in catching at an object [literary
eminence], which he had not power to grasp."

' To find a substitution for violated morality, he said, was the
leading feature in all perversions of religion.

' He often used to quote, with great pathos, those fine lines
of Virgil : ^

' " Optima quceque dies miseris mortaZibus CBvi
Prima fugit ; subeunt morhi, tristisque senectus,
Et labor, et dv/rce rapit inclementia mortis."

' Speaking of Homer, whom he venerated as the prince of
poets, Johnson remarked that the advice given to Diomed'
by his father, when he sent him to the Trojan war, was the
noblest exhortation that could be instanced in any heathen
writer, and comprised in a single line :

Aliv ipurreieiy Kal iirelpoxov l/ifievai &\\up :

which, if I recollect well, is translated by Dr. Clarke thus :
semper appetere prcestaniissi'tna, et omnibus aliis anteccllere.

' He observed, " It was a most mortifying reflection for any
man to consider, what he had done, compared with what he
might have done."

' He said few people had intellectual resources sufficient to
forego the pleasures of wine. They could not otherwise con-
trive how to fill the interval between dinner and supper.

'He went with me one Sunday to hear my old Master,
Gregory Sharpe, preach at the Temple. — In the prefatory
prayer, Sharpe ranted about Liberty, as a blessing most fer-
vently to be implored, and its continuance prayed for. John-

1 Gtorg. iii. 66.

1 [Glaucus is the person who received this counsel : and Clarke's
translation of the passage (//. vi. 208), is as follows :

' Ut semper fortissime rem gcrerem, et superior virtute essem aliis.']

VOL. II. S

274 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1770

son observed that our liberty was in no sort of danger : — he
•would have done much better to pray against our licentwuS'
ness.

' One evening at Mrs. Montagu's, where a splendid company
was assembled, consisting of the most eminent literary char-
acters, I thought he seemed highly pleased with the respect
and attention that were shown him, and asked him on our
return home, if he was not highly gratified by his visit : "No,
sir (said he), not highly gratified ; yet I do not recollect to
have passed many evenings with fewer objections."

'Though of no high extraction himself, he had much
respect for birth and family, especially among ladies. He
said, "Adventitious accomplishments may be possessed by all
ranks ; but one may easily distinguish the born gentlewoman."

'He said, "The poor in England were better provided for
than in any other country of the same extent : he did not
mean little Cantons, or petty Republics. Where a great pro-
portion of the people (said he) are suffered to languish in
helpless misery, that country must be ill policed, and wretch-
edly governed : a decent provision for the poor is the true test
of civilisation. — Gentlemen of Education, he observed, were
pretty much the same in all countries ; the condition of the
lower orders, the poor especially, was the true mark of
national discrimination."

'When the Corn Laws were in agitation in Ireland, by which
that country has been enabled not only to feed itself, but to
export com to a large amount. Sir Thomas Robinson observed
that those laws might be prejudicial to the com trade of
England. "Sir Thomas (said he), you talk the language of a
savage : what, sir, would you prevent any people from feeding
themselves, if by any honest means they can do it ? "

' It being mentioned that Garrick assisted Dr. Brown, the
author of the Estimate,'^ in some dramatic composition, "No,
sir (said Johnson), he would no more suffer Garrick to write a

1 [The Tnesttmaile Estimate of Brown enjoyed at the date of its pub-
lication (1756) a greater popularity than was awarded in our own time
to the late Dr. Pearson's glowing book, National Li/e and Character.
Dr. Brown's forebodings of decadence received their answer in the
expansion of England under Chatham's administration. It is an
interesting book. — A. B.]

^T. 6i] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 275

line in his play, than he would suffer him to mount his
pulpit."

' Speaking of Burke, he said, " It was commonly observed
he spoke too often in Parliament ; but nobody could say he
did not speak well, though too frequently and too familiarly."

' Speaking of economy, he remarked, it was hardly worth
while to save anxiously twenty pounds a year. If a man
could save to that degree, so as to enable him to assume a
different rank in society, then, indeed, it might answer some
purpose.

' He observed, a principal source of erroneous judgment was,
viewing things partially and only on <yne side — as, for instance,
fortune-hvAiters, when they contemplated the fortunes singly
and separately, it was a dazzling and tempting object ; but
when they came to possess the wives and their fortunes
together, they began to suspect they had not made quite so
good a bargain.

' Speaking of the late Duke of Northumberland living very
magnificently when Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, somebody
remarked, it would be difficult to find a suitable successor to
him : then, exclaimed Johnson, he is only jit to succeed him-
self.

'He advised me, if possible, to have a good orchard. He
knew, he said, a clergyman of small income, who brought up
a family very reputably, which he chiefly fed with apple
dumplings.

'He said he had known several good scholars among the
Irish gentlemen, but scarcely any of them correct in quantity.
He extended the same observation to Scotland.

' Speaking of a certain prelate, who exerted himself very
laudably in building churches and parsonage-houses : "How-
ever (said he), I do not find that he is esteemed a man of much
professional learning, or % liberal patron of it ; yet, it is well
where a man possesses any strong positive excellence. Few
have all kinds of merit belonging to their character. We must
not examine matters too deeply. No, sir, a fallible being will
fail somewhere."

' Talking of the Irish clergy, he said, Swift was a man of
great parts, and the instrument of much good to his country.
Berkeley was a profound scholar, as well as a man of fine

276 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1770

imagination ; but Usher, he said, was the great luminary of
the Irish Church ; and a greater, he added, no church could
boast of, at least in modern times.

'"We dined tSte-d,-tete at the Mitre, as I was preparing to
return to Ireland, after an absence of many years. I regretted
much leaving London, where I had formed many agreeable
connections : "Sir (said he), I don't wonder at it ; no man,
fond of letters, leaves London without regret. But remember,
sir, you have seen and enjoyed a great deal ; you have seen
life in its highest decorations, and the world has nothing new
to exhibit. No man is so well qualified to leave public life as
he who has long tried it and known it well. We are always
hankering after imtried situations, and imagining greater
felicity from them than they can afford. No, sir, knowledge
and virtue may be acquired in all countries, and your local
consequence will make you some amends for the intellectual
gratifications you relinquish." Then he quoted the following
lines with great pathos :

' "He who has early known the pomps of state
(For things unknown, 'tis ignorance to condemn) ;
And after having viewed the gaudy bait.
Can boldly say, the trifle I contemn ;
"With such a one contented could I live,
Contented could I die." 1

1 [Being desirous to trace these verses to the fountain-head, after hav-
ingjin vain turned over several of our elder poets with the hope of
lighting on them, I applied to Dr. Maxwell, now resident at Bath, for
the purpose of ascertaining their author ; but that gentleman could
furnish no aid on this occasion. At length the lines having been dis-
covered by the author's second son, Mr. James Boswell, in the London
Ma^azitu for July 1732, where they form part of a poem on ' Retire-
ment,' there published anonj'mously, and doubtless for the first time ;
and they exhibit another proof of what has been elsewhere observed by
the author of the work before us, that Johnson retained in his memory
fragments of very obscure poetic writers. In quoting verses of that
description, he appears by a slight variation to have sometimes given
them a moral turn, and to have dexterously adapted them to his own
sentiments, where the original had a very different tendency. Thus, in
the present instance (as Mr. J. Boswell observes to me), ' the author of
the poem above mentioned exhibits himself as having retired to the
country, to avoid the vain follies of a town life — ambition, avarice, and
the pursuit of pleasure, contrasted with the enjoyments of the country,
and the delightful conversation that the brooks, etc., furnish ; which he
holds to be infinitely more pleasing and instructive than any which

iET. 6i] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 277

' He then took a most affecting leave of me ; said he knew it
was a point of duty that called me away. " We shall aJl be
8orry to lose you," said he : " laudo tamen." '

In 1771 he published another political pamphlet
entitled Thoughts on the late Transactions respecting
Falkland's Islands, in which, upon materials furnished
to him by ministry, and upon general topics expanded
in his rich style, he successfully endeavoured to per-

towns aSbrd. He is then led to eonsider the weakness of the human
mind, and after lamenting that he (the writer) who is neither enslaved
by avarice, ambition, or pleasure, has yet made himself a slave to love,
be thus proceeds :

'" If this dire passion never will be done.

If beauty always must my heart enthral,
O, rather let me be enslaved by one,

Than madly thus become a slave to all :
One who has early known the pomp of state.

For things unknown, 'tis ignorance to condemn,
A nd, after having viewed the gaudy bait.

Can coldly say, the trifle I contemn ;

In her blest arms contented could I live.
Contented could I die. But^ O my mind,

Imaginary scenes of bliss deceive
With hopes of joys impossible to find." '

Another instance of Johnson's retaining in his memory verses of
obscure authors is given in Mr. Boswell's Tour to tJu Hebrides, where,
in consequence of hearing a girl spinning in a chamber over that in
which he was sitting, herepeated these lines, which he said were written
by one Gifford, a clergyman ; but the poem in which they are intro-
duced has hitherto been undiscovered :

' Verse sweetens toil, however rude the sound :

All at her work the village maiden sings ;
Nor while she turns the giddy wheel around.
Revolves the sad vicissitude of things.'

[Johnson did not give the second line accurately, though his version
is the better. See ' Contemplation," a poem printed by Dodsley in 17S3.
Its author was the Rev. Richard Ginord of Balliol College, Oxon.—
A. B.]

In the autumn of 1782, when he was at Brighthelmstone, he frequently
accompanied Mr. Philip Metcalfe in his chaise, to take the air ; and the
conversation in one of their excursions happening to turn on a celebrated
historian, since deceased, he repeated with great precision some verses,
as very characteristic of that gentleman. These tumish another proof
of what has been above observed, for they are found in a very obscure
quarter, among some anonymous poems appended to the second volume

278 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1771

Buade the nation that it was wise and laudable to suffer
the question of right to remain undecided, rather than
involve our country in another war. It has been
suggested by some, with what truth I shall not take
upon me to decide, that he rated the consequence of
those islands to Great Britain too low. But however
this may be, every humane mind must surely applaud
the earnestness with which he averted the calamity of
war ; calamity so dreadful, that it is astonishing how
civilised — nay. Christian nations, can deliberately con-
tinue to renew it. His description of its miseries in
this pamphlet is one of the finest pieces of eloquence
in the English language. Upon this occasion, too, yre
find Johnson lashing the party in opposition with un-
bounded severity, and making the fullest use of what
he ever reckoned a most effectual argumentative
instrument — contempt. His character of their very
able, mysterious champion, Junius, is executed with
all the force of his genius, and finished with the highest
care. He seems to have exulted in sallying forth to
single combat against the boasted and formidable hero,

of a collection frequently printed by Lintot, under the title of Pope's
MisuUanies :

' See how the wand'ring Danube flows,

Realms and religions parting ;

A friend to all true Christian foes,

To Peter, Jack, and Martin.

Now Protestant, and Papist now.

Not constant long to either,
At length an infidel does grow.

And ends his journey neither.

Thas many a youth I 've known set out.

Half Protestant, half Papist,
And rambling long the world about,

Turn infidel or atheist.'

In reciting these verses I have no doubt that Johnson substituted
some word for infidel in the second stanza, to avoid the disagreeable
repetition of the same expression. — M.]

^T. 62] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 279

who bade defiance to 'principalities and powers, and
the rulers of this world.'

This pamphlet, it is observable, was softened in one
particular, after the first edition ; for the conclusion
of Mr. George Grenville's character stood thus : ' Let
him not, however, be depreciated in his grave. He
had powers not universally possessed : could he have
enforced payment of the Manilla ransom, he could have
counted it.' Which, instead of retaining its sly sharp
point, was reduced to a mere flat unmeaning expres-
sion, or, if I may use the word — truism : ' He had
powers not universally possessed ; and if he sometimes
erred, he was likewise sometimes right'

TO BENNET LANGTON, ESQ.

' Deab Sir, — After much lingering of my own, and much
of the ministry, I have at length got out my paper. ^ But
delay is not yet at an end. Not many Lad been dispersed,
before Lord North ordered the sale to stop. His reasons I do
not distinctly know. You may try to find them in the perusal^
Before his order, a suflBcient number were dispersed to do all
the mischief, though perhaps, not to make all the sport that
might be expected from it.

' Soon after your departure, I had the pleasure of finding all
the danger past with which your navigation was threatened.
I hope nothing happens at home to abate your satisfaction ;
but that Lady Rothes, and Mrs. Langton, and the young
ladies, are all well.

' I was last night at the Club, Dr. Percj' has written a long
ballad in many fits ; it is pretty enougli. He has printed, and
will soon publish it. Goldsmith is at Bath with Lord Clare.

1 Thoughts on the late Transactions retpecting Falkland' s Islands.

2 By comparing the first with the subsequent editions, this curious
circumstance of ministerial authorship may be discovered.

[It can only be discovered (as Mr. Bindley observes to me) by him
who possesses a copy ef the first edition issued out before the sale was
stopped. — M.J

280 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1771

At Itfr. Thrale's, where I am now writing, all are well. — I am,
dear sir, your most humble servant, Sam. Johnson.

'March 20, 177L'

Mr. Strahan, the printer, who had been long in
intimacy with Johnson in the course of his literary
labours, who was at once his friendly agent in receiv-
ing his pension for him, and his banker in supplying
him with money when he wanted it ; who was himself
now a member of Parliament, and who loved much
to be employed in political negotiation ; thought he
should do eminent service, both to Government and
Johnson, if he could be the means of his getting a seat
in the House of Commons. With this view, he wrote
a letter to one of the secretaries of the Treasury, of
which he gave me a copy in his own handwriting,
which is as follows :

' SrB, — You will easily recollect, when I had the honour of
waiting upon you some time ago, I took the liberty to observe
to you that Dr. Johnson woxild make an excellent figure in the
House of Commons, and heartily wished he had a seat there.
My reasons are briefly these :

' I know his perfect good afiFection to his Majesty, and his
government, which I am certain he wishes to support by every
means in his power.

'He possesses a great share of manly, nervous, and ready
eloquence ; is quick in discerning the strength and weakness
of an argument, can express himself with clearness and pre-
cision, and fears the face of no man alive.

' His known character as a man of extraordinary sense and
tmimpeached virtue, would secure him the attention of the
House, and could not fail to give him a proper weight there.

' He is capable of the greatest application, and can undergo
any degree of labour where he sees it necessary, and where hia
heart and affections are strongly engaged. His Majesty's
ministers might therefore securely depend on his doing, upon
every proper occasion, the utmost that could be expected from

.ET. 62] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 281

him. They would find him ready to vindicate such measures
as tended to promote the stability of government, and resolute
and steady in carrying them into execution. Nor is anything
to be apprehended from the supposed impetuosity of his temper.
To the friends of the King you will find him a lamb, to his
enemies a lion.

' For these reasons I humbly apprehend that he would be a
very able and useful member. And I will venture to say, the
employment would not be disagreeable to him ; and knowing,
as I do, his strong affection to the King, his ability to serve
him in that capacity, and the extreme ardour with which I am
convinced he would engage in that service, I must repeat, that
I wish most heartily to see him in the House.

' If you think this worthy of attention, you will be pleased to
take a convenient opportunity of mentioning it to Lord North.
If his Lordship should happily approve of it, I shall have the
satisfaction of having been, in some degree, the humble instru-
ment of doing my coimtry, in my opinion, a very essential
service. I know your good nature, and your zeal for the
public welfare, will plead my excuse for giving you this trouble.
— I am, with the greatest respect^ sir, your most obedient and
humble servant, William Stbahan.

'New Street, March 30, 1771.'

This recommendation^ we know, was not effectual ;
but how, or for what reason, can only be conjectured.
It is not to be believed that Mr. Strahan would have
applied, unless Johnson had approved of it. I never
heard him mention the subject ; but at a later period
of his life, when Sir Joshua Reynolds told him that
Mr. Edmund Burke had said, that if he had come
early into Parliament, he certainly would have been
the greatest speaker that ever was there, Johnson
exclaimed, 'I should like to try my hand now.'

It has been much agitated among his friends and
others, whether he would have been a powerful speaker
in Parliament, had he been brought in when advanced

282 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1771

in life. I am inclined to think that his extensive
knowledge, his quickness and force of mind, his
vivacity and richness of expression, his wit and
humour, and above all, his poignancy of sarcasm,
would have had great effect in a popular assembly ;
and that the magnitude of his figure, and striking
peculiarity of his manner, would have aided the effect
But I remember it was observed by Mr. Flood, that
Johnson having been long used to sententious brevity
and the short flights of conversation, might have
failed in that continued and expanded kind of argu-
ment, which is requisite in stating complicated matters
in public speaking ; and as a proof of this he men-
tioned the supposed speeches in Parliament written
by him for the magazine, none of which, in his
opinion, were at all like real debates. The opinion
of one who was himself so eminent an orator, must
be allowed to have great weight. It was confirmed
by Sir William Scott, who mentioned that Johnson
had told him, that he had several times tried to speak
in the Society of Arts and Sciences, but ' had found
he could not get on.' From Mr. William Gerrard
Hamilton I have heard that Johnson, when observing
to him that it was prudent for a man who had not
been accustomed to speak in public to begin his speech
in as simple a manner as possible, acknowledged that
he rose in that society to deliver a speech which he
had prepared ; * but (said he) all my flowers of oratory
forsook me.' I however cannot help wishing that he
had ' tried his hand ' in Parliament ; and I wonder
that ministry did not make the experiment.

I at length renewed a correspondence which had
been too long discontinued :

yET. 62] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 283

TO DB. JOHNSON

'Edinburgh, April 18, 1771.
' My dear Sni, — I can now fuUy understand those intervals
of silence in your correspondence with me, which have often
given me anxiety and imeasiness ; for although I am conscious
that my veneration and love for Mr. Johnson have never in
the least abated, yet I have deferred for almost a year and a
half to write to him.' . . .

In the subsequent part of this letter, I gave him an
account of my comfortable life as a married man, and
a lawyer in practice at the Scotch bar : invited him to
Scotland, and promised to attend him to the High-
lauds and Hebrides.

TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

'Deab Sib, — If you are now able to comprehend that I
might neglect to write without diminution of affection, you
have taught me, likewise, how that neglect may be uneasily
felt without resentment. I wished for your letter a long time,
and when it came, it amply recompensed the delay. I never
was so much pleased as now with your account of yourself ;
and sincerely hope that between public business, improving
studies, and domestic pleasures, neither melancholy nor caprice
will find any place for entrance. Whatever philosophy may
determine of material natm-e, it is certainly true of intellectual
nature, that it abhors a vacuwm : our minds cannot be empty ;
and evil will break in upon them, if they are not pre-occupied
by good. My dear sir, mind your studies, mind your busi-
ness, make your lady happy, and be a good Christian. After
this,

..." tristitiam et metus
Trades protervis in mare Creticvm
Portare ventis." ^

1 Horat. OJes i. 26.

284 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1771

'If we perform our duty, we shall bo safe and steady,
" Sive per," etc., whether we climb the Highlands, or are
tossed among the Hebrides ; and I hope the time will come
when we may try our powers both with cliffs and water. I
see but little of Lord Elibank, I know not why ; periiaps by
my own fault. I am this day going into Staffordshire and
Derbyshire for six weeks. — I am, dear sir, your most affec-
tionate and most humble servant, Sam. Johssojj.

'London, June 20, 177L'

TO SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS IN LEICESTER FIELDS

'Deab Sir, — When I came to Lichfield, I found that my
portrait had been much visited and much admired. Every
man has a lurking wish to appear considerable in his native
place ; and I was pleased with the dignity conferred by such
a testimony of your regard.

'Be pleased, therefore, to accept the thanks of, sir, your
most obliged and most humble servant, Sah. Johnson.

' Ashboum vn Deriyshire,
July 17, 1771.

' Compliments to Miss £«jn(dds.'

TO DB. JOHNSON

' Edinburgh, July 27, 1771.
•My dear Sir, — The bearer of this, Mr. Beattie, Professor
of Moral Philosophy at Aberdeen, is desirous of being intro-
duced to your acquaintance. His genius and learning, and
labours in the service of virtue and religion, render him very
worthy of it ; and as he has a high esteem of your character,
I hope you will give him a favourable reception. — I ever am,
etc., James Bosweli-'

TO BENNET LANGTONj ESQ., AT LANGTON, NEAR SPJLSBY,
LINCOLNSHIRE

'Dear Sir, — I am lately returned from Staffordshire and
Derbyshire. The last letter mentions two others which you
have written tp me since you received my pamphlet. Of these
two I never had but one, in which you mentioned a design of

iET. 62] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 285

visiting Scotland, and, by consequence, put my journey to
Langton out of my thoughts. My summer wanderings are
now over, and I am engaging in a very great work, the re-
vision of my Dictionary ; from which I know not, at present,
how to get loose.

• If you have observed, or been told, any errors or omissions,
you will do me a great favour by letting me know them.

'Lady Rothes, I find, has disappointed you and herself.
Ladies will have these tricks. The Queen and Mrs. Thrale,
both ladies of experience, yet both missed their reckoning
this summer. I hope a few months will recompense your
uneasiness.

* Please to teH Lady Rothes how highly I value the honour
of her invitation, which it is my purpose to obey as soon as I
have disengaged myself. In the meantime I shall hope to
hear often of her ladyship, and every day better news and
better, till I hear that you have both the happiness, which to
both is very sincerely wished, by, sir, your most affectionate
and most humble servant, Sam. Johnson.

'August 29, 1771.'

In October I again wrote to him, thanking him for
his last letter, and his obliging reception of Mr.
Beattie ; informing him that I had been at Alnwick
lately, and had good accounts of him from Dr. Percy.

In his religious record of this year we observe that
he was better than usual, both in body and mind, and
better satisfied with the regularity of his conduct.
But he is stiU ' trying his ways ' too rigorously. He
charges himself with not rising early enough ; yet he
mentions what was surely a sufficient excuse for this,
supposing it to be a duty seriously required, as he all
his life appears to have thought it. 'One great
hindrance is want of rest ; my nocturnal complaints
grow less troublesome towards morning; and I am
tempted to repair the deficiencies of the night.'*

1 Prayers and Meditations, p. lox.

286 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1771

Alas ! how hard would it Be if this indulgence were
to be imputed to a sick man as a crime. In his retro-
spect on the following Easter eve, he says, ' When I
review the last year, I am able to recollect so little
done, that shame and sorrow, though perhaps too
weakly, come upon me.' Had he been judging of any
one else in the same circumstances, how clear would
he have been on the favourable side. How very
difficult, and in my opinion, almost constitutionally
impossible it was for him to be raised early, even by
the strongest resolutions, appears from a note in one
of his little paper-books (containing words arranged
for his Dictionary), written, I suppose, about 1753 :
' I do not remember that since I left Oxford I ever
rose early by mere choice, but once or twice at Edial,
and two or three times for the Rambler.' I think he
had fair ground enough to have quieted his mind
on the subject, by concluding that he was physically
incapable of what is at best but a commodious
regulation.

END OP VOL. II

Printed by T. and A. Constable, Printers to Her Majesty
at the Edinburgh University Press

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